“Welcome to Blubber Burger can I take your order?” “Yeah, I want to get my drivers license.” “Whoa dude. We don’t sell drivers licenses here?” “Well, don’t you have a special Blubber Burger kids meal promo going on where you take our picture and put it on a badge. And doesn’t the badge look like a drivers license? “Well, chyeah, I guess if you take away the little animal balloon shapes, the graffiti, the fluorescent colors and the ‘10 percent off’ coupon, it does.” “Nah. You can leave them on there. I’m pretty sure the police won’t notice. Give me one of those to go ...”
Thus explains how some people on the road today came to get their driver’s license.
And the comment about the police not noticing was not an insult of our wonderful law enforcement folks. It’s just that anybody who drives like a maniac is apt to be arrogant or stupid enough to think they could get away with it.
You know, I don’t consider myself a perfect driver. I make mistakes. Fortunately, I’ve been lucky – had angels watching over my shoulder – and not been in an accident since I was a teen. Not perfect like I said before (ticketed for doing 100 in New Mexico back in ‘82) but not a complete idiot, either.
Now I hate to call people idiots but I can’t think of a better word to describe some of the people on our streets today. We’ve got some idiots out there. As you know, I work in Perry but I live in Warner Robins. In fact, if I lived any further north in Warner Robins, I’d live in Macon (ewww ... shivers just went up my spine).
My trip to work is typically up and down Highway 41 and Dunbar Road. It’s a little over 17 miles one way. It’s enough of a stretch that if you drive it day in and day out, you pretty much get to see the best of the best in terms of the worst drivers in Houston County.
For instance. In Centerville there is a four-way stop at the intersection of 41 and Gunn Road (just west of the Galleria Mall).
Now I’ve given people the benefit of the doubt. It’s a fairly new four-way stop. There’s a learning curve. (Not!) But just about every single day either going or coming – typically when coming home from work as that’s when it’s the busiest – somebody jumps the gun. Goes when it isn’t their turn. “So you’re ahead of me by five whole seconds, you beat me to the drive- through window at Blubber Burger. That just means you’re going to die sooner.”
Last Monday when going home – while still on 41 – I noted a policeman coming toward me with his or her flashing lights on. A second later I spotted why: He or she was leading a funeral procession. Convenient enough, I was right there at the new Foundation Academy.
There’s a turn lane. I pulled off and into it. Then I watched as five cars zipped right on by like they didn’t see a thing.
“Oh sorry officer. I thought those lights were just a flashback from my LSD days.”
Finally, cars started slowing and pulling over. Then, as they were stopped, I noticed the nose of one – about three back from the front – edging out into the approximate three-four-foot no-mans-land yellow stripes separating the lanes.
Don’t do it, I thought.
He did. Pulled right on around and went on his merry way.
Tuesday I noted the remnants of broken glass and that orange police paint marking a spot at the same location so apparently somebody got into somebody in a separate incident. And then would you believe it? Thursday, about 200 yards south at the entrance to Carlton Ridge Subdivision I saw the same exact thing. If they were doing it so I’d have meat – substance – for this column, they need not have bothered. There is no shortage.
I’ll tell ya. I’m just one man but I’ve been tailgated, passed on a double yellow line and cut off enough – or at least felt like it – to rival those “millions served”.
Once someone passed not just me but another car in front of me on the “S” curves of Dunbar (one on one curve and the other on the other, no kidding). I don’t know if you’ve seen them, but that’s the equivalent of eating 1,000 Blubber Burgers in one sitting. In other words, flirting with death. (Yes, I’m still kicking myself for not calling that in.)
Twice at the intersection of 41 and Watson Boulevard (the Highway 247 connector) – with me still on 41, I’ve pulled up to the light in the “straight” lane, only to have someone in the “turn left only” lane floor it to get in front of me. No, I am no granny driver. Ask my wife. Some people are just idiots. And I realize it’s probably not you ... you can read and write.
The latest fad, based on the fact I’ve seen it three times in less than two weeks – all at the intersection of 96 and 41 – is to time your turn with the light. In other words, when they’re in a turn lane and know they’re not going to get a green arrow, once they see the light turn yellow on the opposite side they start creeping and then floor it at just the split second they believe it will turn green on their side.
Yesterday I passed an accident scene at the intersection of Houston Lake Road and Keith Drive (took a different way home).
One car was pretty banged up. The other had run out through a small field and come to rest on the edge of a woodline. It was really banged up. Two emergency workers were trying to get the driver out it, and I could tell even from a distance that by the “kids-gloves” treatment they were employing, it was serious.
We see stark reminders of this all the time. Some people take the healthy- heart approach in response: “I MUST NOT TAKE NEEDLESS CHANCES.” The rest are just a “super-sized” headache.
