Yesterday, I commented that I only raise my voice to athletes on televised sports events and bad drivers who can't hear me. The latter happens much more often than the former, unfortunately. I still find that I'm somewhat pleasant in my yellings though. For example, I've heard myself say aloud to another car, "Learn how to drive more carefully please!" Sure, it gets a little meaner than that, but I'm sure my meanest pales in comparison to some people's nicest.
Where I make up for my lack of driving verbal prowess is in a couple of more subtle moves I do. I don't give people the finger for two reasons: First, it's overused. Second, I'm in L.A. and could get shot. I've found something that works better than anger in these situations. If someone's doing a poor job driving, when I pass them, I shake my head and make a face that says, "I'm really disappointed in you. I expect a little more, and you've let me down." That elicits a much better response than the finger. Instead of responding to anger with more anger, they see my obvious disappointment and think, "Wow, maybe I really screwed up back there." I've also tried waggling my finger in a shaming motion, but I've found that doesn't work quite as well.
Another tactic I use for bad drivers is sarcasm. If someone is tailgating me and finally decides to pass me with a glare, they'll be met by my smiling face waving hello to them. I've seen anger melt into confusion many times with that move. Recently, a woman cut me off horribly, and I gave her a big thumbs-up, as if to say "I really approve of that decision." Her response made me ecstatic: she opened her sunroof and gave me the finger out of it. She totally gets extra points for artistic expression and degree of difficulty.
I'm a very courteous driver in general though. I let people in probably more than the average man, I keep a safe distance, and I'm not too liberal with my horn usage. Last week though, I felt like I used it appropriately. I was on a narrow side street, and a woman turned in front of me when there wasn't much room, and then just stopped. I broke quickly, and when she didn't move, I tapped on my horn twice. (Is it just me, or is the double-tap a much friendlier honking than the single? I think of it as "yoo-hoo" vs. "hey!") Immediately, she put her hazard lights on, indicating that she planned on staying there. Not really upset at all, I started to pull around her to continue on my way home. I looked over as I passed, and she was staring at me and giving me the finger. I was floored. What the hell did I do to deserve that? If I hadn't been so shocked, I may have rolled down my window and pleaded my case for why I didn't deserve the finger in that situation. But then I would've been completely blocking the narrow street, which is totally finger-worthy.
I have driving on my mind because I saw a Driver's Training vehicle yesterday while on the road. I don't know about you, but I find that I treat those cars like the Ebola virus. If I see one in front of me, I almost always try to get over and around it as quickly as possible. It's not that I don't trust people to act appropriately while learning to drive, it's...oh yeah, that's exactly what it is. I want to give them their space, so maybe they'll feel a little more comfortable behind the wheel.
Seeing the new driver reminded me of my own Driver's Training experience. My instructor was a nice Persian man whose real name I can't remember, but I think he just went by "John" to keep it simple. I only remember three things about my entire experience. First, I pulled over to park once, and he said I did a good job except for one thing. I looked in my mirrors and saw that I was in the right place, I put the car in park and used the parking break, and I turned the wheels appropriately since we were on a little hill, so I didn't know what it was. "Do you here any sound?" he asked, sounding like a Jedi master showing me the way through life lessons. "No," I said, expecting him to explain why the silence was wrong. Instead though, he looked at me confused. "You don't hear your turn signal? It's still on; make sure you turn it off." "Oh."
The second thing I remember is getting onto the freeway for the first time. I was on the on-ramp, and he said, "Ok, little bit speed up." I pushed a little harder on the gas, but not much since I was conditioned not to do anything close to flooring it. It wasn't enough though, so he said more urgently, "Little bit speed up, little bit speed up, little bit speed up." He kept saying it, and I kept pushing harder and harder until he stopped. I looked down and I was going 60 mph, which was a lot faster than I had driven. It's funny, because I hear myself telling other cars sometimes to "little bit speed up" when they're not merging correctly. I'm sure John has no idea that he left a mark with that phrase.
Lastly, the third thing I recall is what we actually did on the training sessions. Namely, we ran John's errands. He had me take him to pick up a paycheck, to visit his friend who worked at a 7-11, to the post office, and to do other things on his list. I didn't really mind, as I felt it gave me more of a taste of what real driving was like, but I still found it odd. Six months later, my friend Jon used the same company, and it was his turn to chauffer John around on his daily errands. That's a pretty sweet gig, come to think of it. Ya know, minus the possible death that each day holds.
Anyway, that's what I thought of while avoiding the Driver's Training car like it was on fire and I was made of hairspray. The only time I feel bad about that is when I go out of my way to avoid said car, and then I look over and see that it's just the instructor going somewhere. That's probably the safest person to be around, and here I am acting like a repelling magnet to him. Then I look in the rearview mirror and make a face at myself that says, "I'm really disappointed in you. I expect a little more, and you've let me down." Man, that shit really works.
Have a good day, gentle readers, and I hope it little bit speeds up. Please email ptklein@gmail.com with anything that you think might find interesting. Otherwise, our friendship starting to look pretty one-sided.
Where I make up for my lack of driving verbal prowess is in a couple of more subtle moves I do. I don't give people the finger for two reasons: First, it's overused. Second, I'm in L.A. and could get shot. I've found something that works better than anger in these situations. If someone's doing a poor job driving, when I pass them, I shake my head and make a face that says, "I'm really disappointed in you. I expect a little more, and you've let me down." That elicits a much better response than the finger. Instead of responding to anger with more anger, they see my obvious disappointment and think, "Wow, maybe I really screwed up back there." I've also tried waggling my finger in a shaming motion, but I've found that doesn't work quite as well.
Another tactic I use for bad drivers is sarcasm. If someone is tailgating me and finally decides to pass me with a glare, they'll be met by my smiling face waving hello to them. I've seen anger melt into confusion many times with that move. Recently, a woman cut me off horribly, and I gave her a big thumbs-up, as if to say "I really approve of that decision." Her response made me ecstatic: she opened her sunroof and gave me the finger out of it. She totally gets extra points for artistic expression and degree of difficulty.
I'm a very courteous driver in general though. I let people in probably more than the average man, I keep a safe distance, and I'm not too liberal with my horn usage. Last week though, I felt like I used it appropriately. I was on a narrow side street, and a woman turned in front of me when there wasn't much room, and then just stopped. I broke quickly, and when she didn't move, I tapped on my horn twice. (Is it just me, or is the double-tap a much friendlier honking than the single? I think of it as "yoo-hoo" vs. "hey!") Immediately, she put her hazard lights on, indicating that she planned on staying there. Not really upset at all, I started to pull around her to continue on my way home. I looked over as I passed, and she was staring at me and giving me the finger. I was floored. What the hell did I do to deserve that? If I hadn't been so shocked, I may have rolled down my window and pleaded my case for why I didn't deserve the finger in that situation. But then I would've been completely blocking the narrow street, which is totally finger-worthy.
I have driving on my mind because I saw a Driver's Training vehicle yesterday while on the road. I don't know about you, but I find that I treat those cars like the Ebola virus. If I see one in front of me, I almost always try to get over and around it as quickly as possible. It's not that I don't trust people to act appropriately while learning to drive, it's...oh yeah, that's exactly what it is. I want to give them their space, so maybe they'll feel a little more comfortable behind the wheel.
Seeing the new driver reminded me of my own Driver's Training experience. My instructor was a nice Persian man whose real name I can't remember, but I think he just went by "John" to keep it simple. I only remember three things about my entire experience. First, I pulled over to park once, and he said I did a good job except for one thing. I looked in my mirrors and saw that I was in the right place, I put the car in park and used the parking break, and I turned the wheels appropriately since we were on a little hill, so I didn't know what it was. "Do you here any sound?" he asked, sounding like a Jedi master showing me the way through life lessons. "No," I said, expecting him to explain why the silence was wrong. Instead though, he looked at me confused. "You don't hear your turn signal? It's still on; make sure you turn it off." "Oh."
The second thing I remember is getting onto the freeway for the first time. I was on the on-ramp, and he said, "Ok, little bit speed up." I pushed a little harder on the gas, but not much since I was conditioned not to do anything close to flooring it. It wasn't enough though, so he said more urgently, "Little bit speed up, little bit speed up, little bit speed up." He kept saying it, and I kept pushing harder and harder until he stopped. I looked down and I was going 60 mph, which was a lot faster than I had driven. It's funny, because I hear myself telling other cars sometimes to "little bit speed up" when they're not merging correctly. I'm sure John has no idea that he left a mark with that phrase.
Lastly, the third thing I recall is what we actually did on the training sessions. Namely, we ran John's errands. He had me take him to pick up a paycheck, to visit his friend who worked at a 7-11, to the post office, and to do other things on his list. I didn't really mind, as I felt it gave me more of a taste of what real driving was like, but I still found it odd. Six months later, my friend Jon used the same company, and it was his turn to chauffer John around on his daily errands. That's a pretty sweet gig, come to think of it. Ya know, minus the possible death that each day holds.
Anyway, that's what I thought of while avoiding the Driver's Training car like it was on fire and I was made of hairspray. The only time I feel bad about that is when I go out of my way to avoid said car, and then I look over and see that it's just the instructor going somewhere. That's probably the safest person to be around, and here I am acting like a repelling magnet to him. Then I look in the rearview mirror and make a face at myself that says, "I'm really disappointed in you. I expect a little more, and you've let me down." Man, that shit really works.
Have a good day, gentle readers, and I hope it little bit speeds up. Please email ptklein@gmail.com with anything that you think might find interesting. Otherwise, our friendship starting to look pretty one-sided.
1 comment:
I loved that suit.
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