If you’ve spent 10 seconds in Florida, you’re already aware that nobody here should have a license. And if you haven’t had the distinct honor of visiting God’s waiting room, then shorely you’ve read my rant about it and are well-informed.
This problem only grows progressively worse throughout the summer as storm clouds roll in. They establish residency quicker than Elian ever could, and they make everyday travel a real pain in my ass. What’s a state full of geriatrics and idiots to do?
- Go slow. Too slow. Do less. You might as well be going backward. If you approach the 20 MPH mark, come to a halt immediately. Don’t you dare allow the stumbling homeless man’s speed intimidate you.
- Tailgate. I’m not talking grilling brats and drinking brewskies, I’m saying to follow so closely that you can read the back of my Spice Girls shirt. And judge me for it.
- Stall out. While this one can’t always be avoided, I highly suggest you think before driving your MINI Cooper through streets with 3 feet of standing water. Oh, you flooded the engine? I, for one, am shocked!
- Frantically change lanes every 5–10 seconds. The left lane is moving, so you move over. Dammit, now the right is zooming … guess you’ll have to switch back. Ack, the guy on the left is turning; hurry! Why bother staying in one lane? Amateurs.
- Swerve without looking. Similar to changing lanes like a tard, you’ll need to swerve around puddles — but only do so without checking for cars around you. Really, you didn’t see my tank of an SUV? That’s because you’re too busy with your head up your sphincter.
I’m not saying gun it to 88, Doc Brown. I’m just saying I’d like to reach my destination sometime before I hit retirement — and in one piece, no less. Based on this week’s forecast, that’s not likely to happen.
I live in Florida, or as I lovingly refer to it, God’s Waiting Room. The disproportionate amount of elderly people, zit-faced teenagers and clueless idiots to normal folks is astounding. That’s why, I hereby propose that nobody in Florida should have a driver’s license.
Around these parts, people make their own rules. That red light? Merely a suggestion. The stop sign? There for decoration. Those pedestrians? They’ll get out of the way.
The logic behind the “decisions” my fellow drivers make on the daily is baffling.
- Speed all the way to the end of the lane that’s ending, ignoring all of the signs and the flashing lights telling you to merge … to cut right over at the last second and nearly cause an accident.
- Take up two lanes at a time because you’re unsure which side of the road your Bingo hall is on (Side note: I’m a fan of Bingo, when margaritas are involved). Don’t worry about the drivers behind you; they don’t mind.
- Cut out in bumper-to-bumper traffic when you don’t have the right of way, because you are more important and your destination is far more interesting.
Sound familiar? Welcome to Hell, or as I like to call it: the daily commute.
Few things infuriate me more than the traffic we suffer through in The Sunshine State. I’m aware that there are shitty drivers anywhere you go but that doesn’t make up for the fact that those here are just plain insane.
What’s more is that nobody even seems to notice that they’re putting others in danger because of their moronic actions. Surely that text can’t wait until you’re stopped or in park. The food must be consumed as quickly as possible or you’ll die of starvation. That little lever next to the steering wheel (standard in all cars) isn’t meant to signal anything other than too much attention to detail.
And when the loverly weather isn’t perfect, just fucking forget it. Hurricane season lasts five months so as you can imagine, it’s literally a shitstorm every time it rains. Roads are wet and visibility is low, but why bother turning on your headlights or wipers? It’s not worth it to slow down at all — that will just make you late.
As much as I’d love to see snow on a regular basis, I have to remember that the death trap that is I-275 wouldn’t last a week if ice was added into the mix.
Aside from moving, I don’t see many options for resolution.
It’d be great if drivers were tested every few years to ensure that they at least have some functional brain activity before being let loose. The fact that you can take a test at 16 and then continue to operate a ton of metal without being assessed for the next 80 years is beyond me. I’m willing to bet a Floridian OK’ed that.