What did you think this post was about, you dirty, dirty reader?
I'm talking four way stops and there aren't enough people in this city who know how to actually use them. I woke up this morning in a bad mood, and I ended the day in a bad mood. Somewhere in the middle I began to wonder exactly how people in Salt Lake actually got their driver's licenses because surely they never passed their tests.
Here's a reminder about laws in Salt Lake (and I'm sure many places all around North America-- even quite possibly Canada) involving four-way stops:
When two cars come to a four way stop at the same time, the rule is to yield to the car on the right. The car on the right should go first, then the car on the left and the order proceeds clockwise. Don't pull up at the same time as me and if you're to my right impatiently stare then wave me through like you're doing me a favor.
You're not doing me a favor. You're pissing me off, and if I wanted to get really technical, you're breaking the law.
Two separate people at two separate intersections did this to me this morning on the way to work. We pulled up at the same time, in fact, I was even a bit behind, and each time the person on my right sat there (one of whom on their cell phone) and waited for me to go. Being such a stickler about four way stop laws, I glared at them, waiting for them to pull their heads out of their asses and go. These people, I'm sure trying to be nice citizens, waved me through once again. Not a favor. In fact, if I went and they wanted to, they could ram me and any witness would say that it was I that drove out of turn.
Maybe I shouldn't care so much, maybe I should give up this nagging sense of responsibility and drive with wild abandonment. Of course, I would then be the one to cause the accident and that would piss me off as well. I'm going to the gym, and I'm not coming back until I get out of my funk; and it's a hell of a funk today. Look for me at Gold's if you don't see me by Thanksgiving.
p.s. While changing for the gym, I just noticed something. Even though I was wearing boyshort-like Victoria's Secret underwear, I have been rocking VPL all day. I haven't had this since middle school when my mom bought me bulk packs of Garfield panties from Mervyn's.
7 comments:
It's gotten to the point that I no wonder how people manage to drive without dying in a fiery crash. I now wonder how these people manage to get into their cars everyday without slamming their hand in the door.
Hey Tiny Dancer,
Major UT driving pet peeve: left-hand turn that blows through all the lanes to the far outside right lane. Two-lane left turns scare the shit out of me because one day, the person to the left will not pay attention and side-swipe me. Plus it totally screws up the ability to make a right-turn on red.
Second: Cell phone use (sorry) by women on UT roads. A man on a cell will take the call and stiff-arm his driving until the call is complete. But I have seen more women on cell phones scrunched back into the corner of the drivers seat and the door like they're lounging on a sofa. Unsafe, yes. Worse, they shoot me the dirty look when they nearly run me off the road.
Third: "tourists" at accidents. You are not required to slow down and analyze the accident. Cops are on the scene and they will handle it. If EMT's are required, they'll be called. You are not a doctor, you cannot help. Michelle King will not call you for your account of the accident. Like the cliche says, "There's nothing to see here folks. Let's move it along".
. . . and no, I don't feel better.
Darren
Kris- True, true. And it's scarily universal. I mean, I think the same thing even when I leave the Zion curtain.
...except out East they'll hit you and then they'll honk.
Darren- Darren, Darren, Darren... let's not equate poor driving with gender. For every woman you allegedly find lounging behind the wheel, talking on a cell phone, you have mean, yelling males who can't control their tempers. Maybe if you have a penis you think you can drive and talk on the phone (which nobody should do anyway), but it's time to take cover when somebody cuts a guy off and they lash out like they suddenly developed Tourette Syndrome.
But I agree with you on the other stuff. :)
In fact, when I was a traffic reporter, we used to have to refer to "tourists at accidents" as "spectator slowing."
Dearest Fishnet Rock Legend,
Please don't think I am picking upon women/girls/dames/broads/and or ladies based upon their genitalia. I understand they are built wicked different from men/boys/guys/dicks and or gentlemen -- and I am darn glad for it. You are correct that many men believe because of what they carry in their pants they are Mario Andretti. My comment arose from anecdotal observations while commuting into, and out of, Utah County upon the I-15 "Thanksgiving Point Racetrack/Observation Deck".
Penitently Yours,
Darren
P.S. - I bet you'd still look darn cute in Garfield panties. ;)
:)
Garfield panties and, of course, fishnets.
Surprised anyone came to a full stop at all. Or did they?
-dolt
The verification word was mcnuk. Think I ate one of those once.
Dolt- I prefer McNuks with honey instead of BBQ.
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