Road Rage

Hi my name is Robin and I have Road Rage.

Hello Robin….welcome to RRA (Road Rage Anonymous)

Wouldn’t it be cute if I could come up with a cute name for it that had the initials RRARRRR!

I would have to say that 90% of my driving time is spent wondering why I’ve been unlucky enough to be driving behind someone who obviously doesn’t have to be anywhere soon.  I’ve driven to work following an older person who drives 5-10 miles under the speed limit.  I’m assuming that they’re on their way to a 9am doctor’s appointment and since it’s only 7:45am, they have LOT OF TIME to get there.  They’ll walk into the office and expect to be seen as soon as they arrive, even though their appointment is not for another 45 minutes.  I’ve seen it so many times.

This morning I was driving my almost 13 year old son to school with a project that wouldn’t fare well on the school bus.  I decided to go another route since their was a school bus turning onto my normal road route.  I get behind a black SUV that obviously had no intention of traveling the suggested speed limit. My soon to be teenager asks me to pass them.  On a windy road not passable by even Jeff Gordon in his race car.  For a moment I start to think about the fact that in just 3 short years, my son will be behind the wheel of whatever vehicle I’ll be fortunate enough to own.  I’m a bad influence on his driving future.   Luckily the car turns off a few yards before my turn onto the school road, but just as I’m preparing to turn onto said road, a little pick me up truck turns before me, proceeding to travel 10 miles below the speed limit.  My son wants me to “ride his ass”.  I now know that I’ve made a lasting impression and I will reap what I sow in a few years.  I quickly state that I read somewhere that God puts these slow, annoying bastards in my way to save me from some tragedy that might have occurred had I had been traveling at the speed of sound like I normally do.  I’m trying to not only cut my losses with this kid but also maybe embed some sort of philosophy about things that happen “for a reason”.  One can never know what’s gonna stick in a child’s mind and what isn’t.  I’m positive that my driving skills have made an impact on him, and not for the better.

This isn’t the first time that I’ve made an effect on one of my children.  My oldest son got to experience me passing a car on a road that I had no business doing that on.  I believe he was just short of driving age or maybe he had his permit to drive.  That was too many years ago to remember, but every now and then he brings up the episode, so I know I made a memory for him, albeit a bad one.

Fast forward and I’m pulling into the school parking lot to drop of my little future speed demon and I see a line of cars, none of them moving very much.  Deep breath, Rob, deep breath. Is there a child finishing his breakfast in the front car?  Can he get his clarinet out of the trunk any faster?  So being the road raged impatient mom behind the wheel that I am,  I pass the other calm, tolerant moms and dads and head to the front of the line.  It’s a good thing people can’t actually shoot daggers from their eyes, because I would probably look like swiss cheese right now.  And then the inevitable guilt sets in.  I start to second guess my actions, but it’s too late now.  I’m the asshole car driver that thinks they’re better than everyone else.  That’s not true, but it kinda resembles my sentiment.  A little.  I’m not better, just more advanced at expeditiously dropping my child at school.  Sounds better doesn’t it?

After I leave the school going the required 15mph in the school zone, which by the way is the almost the only sign I completely agree is not just a suggestion like the other speed limit signs are, I get behind another bus.  And then a triaxle truck carrying an over sized load of dirt. Count to 10 Rob….thank goodness I finally get behind a girl that I work with who has a lead foot like me and we virtually FLY into work, gliding gracefully at a comfortable speed of 55mph in a 40mph.

I feel like there are people who realize I’m in a hurry and just say to themselves, “too bad, I’m gonna drive as slow as I want and you can’t do anything about it”.  It’s a power thing.  In fact, I’ve actually thought that myself.  I’ve been coasting along at at a pleasant speed 10 miles above the “suggested” speed limit and somebody is close enough to my back bumper to give it a kiss.  I look in the rear view mirror and say, “too bad, I’m not going any faster”.  So I’ve been there, done that, just not when I’m driving 10 miles UNDER the limit, not that I ever have, heehee.   Arrogance is alive and well, even on the road.

I know that after I publish this blog, I’ll probably be pulled over at some point in the near future for speeding.  The fact that it hasn’t happened yet is an incredible fete.  *knocking on the proverbial wood*  I don’t know how I’ll adjust if and when that happens.  I don’t try to drive recklessly or without care.  I may have just been a French race car driver in my past life.  French only because I love the language.

Will I eventually be one of those senior citizens traveling at a snails pace on my way to my 9am doctor’s appointment?  I hope not, but only time will tell.

Until then, “Gentlemen, start your engines…”