DRIVING AT EIGHTY DEGREES OF STUPIDITY

Geezuskrist with the driving already.  Seriously.  We have one warm autumn day, and you're all driving like fucking lunatics.  Just because it is 80 out doesn't mean your driving IQ  has to match it.

First, some trash-ass low life in a white Lincoln Towncar tries to kill me by going 30 on route 125 (speed limit is 50) and hitting the brakes.  Dude!  If you're going to drive while high on your way to a Lawrence drug deal, take the damn back roads instead of meandering past the state police barracks, you dumbass.

Then, I have not one, not two, not three, but four people crossing the center line on 125 coming the other way (they are all doing the 50 mph speed limit).  Do NOT text and drive!  Or perhaps you have a bee in your car -- they go nuts this time of year when it gets hot like this.  Stay in your lane, damnit.

I get to the stop light in the center of town and an SUV, parked in a legal parking spot, decides to pull out into me.  The driver, a man, starts to scream at me because I am in the lane he wants -- namely, THE ROAD.  He immediately tries to ram my car then pulls into the space eight feet from the one he just left.  Um.  Seriously?  He appears to be headed to the law offices in the nearby building.  I hope he is there for a divorce.  God bless his soon-to-be ex-wife.  She is a lucky, lucky woman.

I want to stop at the grocery store for some potato salad to go with my dinner.  I come through the back entrance and swing around because I'm trying to avoid traffic.  By now, I am quite certain people suck at driving today.  But, wait!  As I cross the path of the main entrance where there is a huge STOP sign for incoming vehicles, an asshole in a red SUV not only ignores the stop sign (his), he careens across the opposite lane and goes straight in front of me doing about forty in the parking lot.

After I get my potato salad, I decide I don't want to die at the hands of idiot drivers, so I take the side street home rather than the main drag.  Smart, right?  Nope.  STUPID.  Someone decides to pull over sort of a little bit on the other side, and everyone behind him believes that my lane going up the hill is now their lane to come down the hill.  One ... two ... three ... four ... five more cars drive straight at me, expecting me to get out of the way.  There is an eight-foot tall stone wall next to me.  I'm not going anywhere but to the emergency room if they keep driving like this.

When I finally arrive at my house, I attempt to back into my driveway.  Easy pickings?  Sure.  That is, until my neighbor realizes she is late to the bus stop to meet her kid and walks across the path of my car.  Hmmmm.  Person.  Car.  Person.  Car.  Apparently, my neighbor is a gambler.

I'm home now, safe and sound.  I'm not going out anywhere tonight.  If anyone has an emergency, tough shit.  Bite me.  Come borrow my car.  Me?  I'm not going anywhere.