Today, I went to visit a friend in Yakima, which is 2ish hours away from me by freeway.
I like taking the freeway, because if the sign says ’70’ you can go 79, there aren’t really any trees or rocks for cops to hide behind, and there’s some fun scenery in the distance.
But my absolute favorite part of any freeway ever is this: if someone decides that you are not, in fact, supposed to add 9mph to the posted speed limit, you can flip on your little handy dandy blinker and mosey right past them in the passing lane.
So I moseyed. I flew. I did whatever I wanted. I passed trucks, trailers, and old people so gracefully that I don’t recall needing to tap my brakes even once. The trip was going absolutely wonderfully, until….
F&%$#@ Orange Car.
Orange Car was about six cars ahead of me, and he found himself stuck behind a Slow-Moving Vehicle. Orange Car pulled out into the passing lane.
AND THEN ORANGE CAR DIDN’T PASS.
Slowly, every single one of us moved into the passing lane in the hopes that Orange Car would eventually speed up. He never did. He just sailed riiiiiight alongside the Slow-Moving Vehicle, making it compleeeetely impossible for aaaaaanyone else to get by.
To subdue my rage, I tried to think of any possible reasons for Orange Car’s apparent inanity. Maybe the Slow-Moving Vehicle was actually being driven by a friend he hadn’t seen in 5 years, and now they were catching up!…on the freeway, 70mph, screaming through their open windows. That could happen. Maybe Slow-Moving Vehicle was a total babe, and Orange Car was having a hard time keeping his foot on the pedal while smearing his phone number all over the passenger’s side window with a tube of lipstick that his current girlfriend had accidentally left behind (because you know Orange Car is a total skeeze). Or maybe the Slow-Moving Vehicle had pissed him off somehow, and it was up to Orange Car to exact revenge by making obscene gestures and bringing shame upon Slow-Moving Vehicle’s family. I don’t know. I’ve never been an Orange Car, so I’m not sure exactly how the ‘family honor’ thing works there.
Finally, after I’d had time to complete an entire list of reasons why Orange Car might be moving so slowly in the passing lane (Orange Car is being driven by a 10-yr-old. Orange Car is a robot. Orange Car is powered by Internet Explorer), the pass was complete. Slow-Moving Vehicle was left behind, and soon, the caterpillar of cars that Orange Car had created behind him would be able to disperse along the freeway. There was a large semi-truck about a half of a mile ahead of all of us, and freeway etiquette called for Orange Car to merge back into the right lane and allow us all to pass.
BUT HE DIDN’T. Orange Car stomped on his gas pedal (did the babe reject him? Had he sufficiently shamed SMV’s family and was now free to prance along?) and bombed down the freeway towards the semi. Suddenly, the string of cars (of which I brought up the tail end, so any sort of accident or pile-up caused by Orange Car’s idiocy would have been completely blamed on me) was going 80mph. We were all so determined not to let Orange Car piss us all off and then get away without any consequences that we all tailed each other, hoping to somehow collectively force Orange Car back into the right lane.
(Driver solidarity; rarely effective, but not to be messed with.)
Well, I thought, in another effort to quell my anger, look on the bright side. At least he’s going 80 and not 70.
And then, as if on cue, Orange Car pulled up alongside the semi and thought, Hmm, I’ve been going 80 for about a minute flat now. You know what would be fun? SIXTY-FIVE WOULD BE FUN!
Back in the caterpillar formation we went. Orange Car led the pack slowly, possibly because he was examining the mechanics underneath the truck next to him or possibly because he was working up the courage to zoom under it a lá Fast and the Furious, and our Driver Solidarity flared up again. We were all raging. We didn’t just want him to pull over anymore. We wanted blood.
(Ok, I did; I guess I can’t technically speak for everyone else. I’m just assuming that they all did too.)
This went on for MILES. Every time he slowly passed a car, he’d zoom up to the next one.
Suddenly, it hit me that Orange Car was the root of all society’s problems. Orange Car was selfish, rude, and in a position to drive (literally) everyone else nuts by forcing us all to accommodate his ignorance. This one stupid car literally made me want to go punch a puppy right in it’s cute little face. I hated him. I hated Orange Car.
If Orange Car had the ability to make me rage the way I did, I can only imagine what he’d done to other people in the past. Orange Car had probably been the reason behind many a stress-induced heart attack. He’d probably caused hundreds of 30-car pileups. I’ll bet every President ever only declared war because their government vehicle had just been stuck in traffic behind Orange Car. Why did Henry VIII kill 2 of his wives? PROBABLY ORANGE CAR.
This is both a rant and a public service announcement.
People.
Don’t be that guy.
Don’t be Orange Car.
A Little Kristen 