Four Wheels Bad, Two Wheels Good
I finally got my scooter back up and running from it’s unfortunate flat tire. I once again get to enjoy the testosterone fueled, SUV road rage that is Chicago driving. Now, before you all write in accusing me of sexism, remember that women also have testosterone coursing through their veins. If we didn’t, I wouldn’t have to wax my upper lip nearly as much.
Road rage I understand. After all, who wouldn’t get angry at the sheer audacity of some drivers? Since I cannot operate a cell phone while I drive my scooter, I have the unique opportunity to observe you automobile operators in all of your distracted glory.
Like the one rush hour when I was behind a gentleman in a minivan who decided that he absolutely had to shave his head at that very moment. And shave his head he did, for about two miles. Never mind that he almost killed a pedestrian, side-swiped a bicyclist and ran a red light at Addison. None of this matters because his head looked fantastic!
Another morning, I drove behind a man who had multi-tasking down to an artform. He was eating breakfast, smoking, talking on his cellphone and reading his mail, all while supposedly driving his car. He ran two red lights and cut off a school bus.
My favorite distracted driver story is about a man and his truck. It was a Friday rush hour, about 6:30, and I was driving home behind a gentleman in a ratty old pick-up truck on Western Ave. He had apparently just purchased something at Walgreens, as it was sitting in a bag on his dashboard. He tried to leave the bag alone, but he obviously just couldn’t stand it just sitting there, mocking him, because at every stoplight he would take out whatever was in the bag and look it over. I became very interested in what was in the bag as well and determined to find out what exactly it was.
I edged closer to the back of the pick-up so that I could see exactly what he was so enthralled with. Then he started picking up pieces of whatever it was he was looking at and reading the labels. I was finally able to see what it was that was so interesting. It was a perfume/cologne gift set! I invented scenarios in my mind, perhaps he was on his way to give this to his wife or girlfriend. Suddenly I thought this has to be the sweetest communter I have ever seen.
That was, until he started opening every container and either spraying or squirting the contents on himself. Apparently, my sweet truck driving dude was not so much sweet as sweet smelling. That man used more products on himself in 20 minutes than I currently own. I’m not sure, but I think the cab of that pick-up might have had it’s very own greenhouse effect happening due to his liberal use of aerosol sprays.
So, enjoy your commute home and remember, just because you are surrounded by sheet metal and glass, it doesn’t mean that nobody can see you. Yes, I did see you pick your nose and yes, it was pretty disgusting. Now pay attention and drive!