Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Another Thing That Pisses Me Off
Now, I have nothing against people owning and driving giant gas-guzzling SUVs. To each their own. I might own one myself if they didn't cost a year's salary and require a second mortgage to fill the gas tank.
But I believe the state ought to require that a person prove they can drive one of those big bastards before they allow them to get behind the wheel. Sort of like requiring a motorcycle endorsement or CDL, see? If you're five foot nothing, and have to strap 4X4 blocks to your feet to reach the pedals, then maybe you should consider an alternate form of transportation.
I pulled into a small parking lot today, just as a big ass Yukon was backing out of a parking space. Having no place to go, I waited him out. He backed out at about the speed of a stoned Galapagos tortoise, then had absolutely no clue how much clearance he had behind him. (It was plenty) So he stopped prematurely, went forward about two feet until he thought he didn't have sufficient room to clear the car in front of him. (He did) Then he backed up some more at a bit slower speed, finally pulling forward again, taking up both lanes of travel to do so. I fired my imaginary front mounted hidden heat-seeking anti-dumbass rocket launchers at him several times in the process, blowing his inept ass to smithereens in my fertile imagination. And that's like the fifth time in a week I've encountered drivers like him.
Hey asshole, go buy yourself a Yugo.
The other guys that kill me are those that think they absolutely must back their gigantamous pickup truck into their parking space. When I was a cop, I often backed into my space in the event I got a call and had to haul ass in a hurry. I get that. I also get backing into a space at the BOB or Glendale arena, when you will later need to be able to pull forward to merge into the zillions of cars all leaving at the same time.
But I doubt that the dork at the bar, grocery store, or mall will need to speed away in a hurry, or merge into heavy traffic at Dillards. So why in hell do you make me sit there and wait for your dumb ass to back up, miss, back up again, miss again, try one more time, and still end up cockeyed in your parking space? Now, some guys can pull it off. Pirate Rick is so in command of his Big Red Truck he can back it into a space about an inch wider than the truck itself on the first try. I'm very cool with that. Impressed, in fact.
But if you're one of the incompetent pinheads described above, we already know that you only drive your Ford F350 Power Stroke Diesel Dually to your job at the ol' accounting firm. There isn't a single scratch on the bed, and you wouldn't know how to hitch up a trailer if your life depended on it. So do us all a favor, will you? Trade the big sonofabitch for something smaller that you can handle.
Or at least practice.
|
But I believe the state ought to require that a person prove they can drive one of those big bastards before they allow them to get behind the wheel. Sort of like requiring a motorcycle endorsement or CDL, see? If you're five foot nothing, and have to strap 4X4 blocks to your feet to reach the pedals, then maybe you should consider an alternate form of transportation.
I pulled into a small parking lot today, just as a big ass Yukon was backing out of a parking space. Having no place to go, I waited him out. He backed out at about the speed of a stoned Galapagos tortoise, then had absolutely no clue how much clearance he had behind him. (It was plenty) So he stopped prematurely, went forward about two feet until he thought he didn't have sufficient room to clear the car in front of him. (He did) Then he backed up some more at a bit slower speed, finally pulling forward again, taking up both lanes of travel to do so. I fired my imaginary front mounted hidden heat-seeking anti-dumbass rocket launchers at him several times in the process, blowing his inept ass to smithereens in my fertile imagination. And that's like the fifth time in a week I've encountered drivers like him.
Hey asshole, go buy yourself a Yugo.
The other guys that kill me are those that think they absolutely must back their gigantamous pickup truck into their parking space. When I was a cop, I often backed into my space in the event I got a call and had to haul ass in a hurry. I get that. I also get backing into a space at the BOB or Glendale arena, when you will later need to be able to pull forward to merge into the zillions of cars all leaving at the same time.
But I doubt that the dork at the bar, grocery store, or mall will need to speed away in a hurry, or merge into heavy traffic at Dillards. So why in hell do you make me sit there and wait for your dumb ass to back up, miss, back up again, miss again, try one more time, and still end up cockeyed in your parking space? Now, some guys can pull it off. Pirate Rick is so in command of his Big Red Truck he can back it into a space about an inch wider than the truck itself on the first try. I'm very cool with that. Impressed, in fact.
But if you're one of the incompetent pinheads described above, we already know that you only drive your Ford F350 Power Stroke Diesel Dually to your job at the ol' accounting firm. There isn't a single scratch on the bed, and you wouldn't know how to hitch up a trailer if your life depended on it. So do us all a favor, will you? Trade the big sonofabitch for something smaller that you can handle.
Or at least practice.
