What is it about truck drivers that makes them complete assholes? Is it the extra foot of ground clearance that makes them feel powerful as they gaze upon others in sedans? Is it the worse fuel economy and subsequently lighter wallet that makes them rage? Or maybe it’s the lack of self control that accompanies lower intelligence. Who knows. Here are two tales of raging truck drivers.
There I was just a sittin’ in my car at an intersection, looking at the green left turn yield light. Now on the other side of the road are other trucks and vans waiting to turn left that block my view. I don’t know if there are any cars coming my way. So I inch forward a little to see if I can check for cars before I turn. As I’m inching forward, the driver of the monstrous black Dodge 2500 behind me starts honking nonstop for me to go.
Since I drive a sedan, my line of sight isn’t great. To make things worse, the parallel approaching road was uphill, so there was no real way to see if any cars were coming. I’m waiting to turn, and the whole time this guy is honking nonstop.
I heave an exasperated sigh, and after I make an extra slow turn when the time comes, the guy guns his engine the moment he’s behind me, makes a crazy lane change to pass, gives me a crazed look and speeds away.
Another fun day in urban sprawl suburbia.
The other time I’m making another left turn into a shopping plaza from one of those divider sections in the middle, when once again, a guy in a black truck (A Dodge again?) comes up behind me. Since it was around 5:30, cars filled with stressed out little robots returning home from Cubicle Land were zooming by at a breathtaking speed. There’s a small gap in traffic, but with my pitiful V4, it’s unlikely I have sufficient acceleration to make it past. At this moment, the madman behind me begins to pound his horn like a gorilla. “Fuck!” I exclaimed. Ever since incident #1 listed above, I have hated truck drivers. At this point I flipped the bird through the middle and decided to take my sweet old time.
The hambeast had stopped honking. “That must have shut his lard ass up, I naively thought.” Little did I know that the parking lot would soon turn into Fast and Furious meets Mortal Kombat.
I turn into the parking lot, and this truck driver starts honking madly. He pulls up beside me and he is beet red. Through the window, I see his portly head screaming and his arms waving. He gets out of car looking like he was about to have a heart attack (I wish he did to save the world some trouble). Now I could see what he was mouthing, “DO YOU WANNA GO DO YOU WANNA GO?” At this point I was slightly fearing for my safety, but also a bit amused.
It’s no secret that most truck drivers hardly ever use the bed (I salute those that do more than once a week). Those who buy a such an ugly vehicle with terrible gas mileage and rarely use it for its intended purpose are generally retarded. Retarded people have a tendency to be right wing, unfortunately, and right wing people tend to buy guns. Lots of them. There’s nothing wrong with gun ownership, unless the guns are in the hands of retards, like the aforementioned individual. So knowing all of this, I hit the gas to put distance between me and the frothing baboon. Luckily he does not tail me. Peace returns.
Are you a truck driver? Do you never use the bed? Are you right wing? Well you’re probably retarded.