By Rain
The most important thing to know about The City of the Stars: it’s the mecca for the fast-paced and the botoxed [high-maintenanced], and you sure as hell better make sure you don’t get in anyone’s way.
That said, karma’s determined to rain irony all over road-ragers by making sure Rush Hour is actually Rush Better-Clear-Out-Your-Entire-Afternoon. What’s supposed to be a ten minute drive can turn into a two hour boredom-fest chock-full of overplayed-Adele and thoughts of screwing it all by barrel-rolling out the door [it’s not like doing so would worsen the situation]. Or of, you know, getting a gun license.
I’m just kidding, of course — I’m not a violent person, and my current career stall doesn’t really give me much spending money — but like any good movie that ends before you’re ready for it to, just fantasizing about revenge proves to be a pretty good way of managing your road rage and passing the time while sitting in the 101 parking lot.
What can I say? I’m a conceptual artist.
And these are the Top 5 that are particularly satisfying:
1. For the Doesn’t-Signal Douche-Nozzle — that person who crosses 5 lanes without blinking a blinker, ultimately scaring the crap out of you — it’s always fun to imagine your car has some kind of Apparating powers. Just pop in and out of the open spaces DSDN’s trying to get to. Granted, said Apparating powers would be very limited as Apparating over longer distances would probably take way more science to figure out. But still. DSDN-battling would be its primary goal, anyway.
2. For the Tail-Gating Twat-Biscuit — that person who, regardless of how slowly the car ahead of you is going, insists you must be the instigator and proceeds to drive just one foot behind. For this I recommend hydraulics: imagine, anytime a car gets as much as 2 feet away, just brake, pump the Hs, and dent TGTB’s hood with Justice.
3. For the Rubber-Necking Rick-Roll’der — they who, no matter how flexible they think their neck is, or how coordinated they feel they are, fool all five hundred cars behind them into thinking there’s a good reason for the unbearable traffic. Nope, it’s just because RNRR’s determined to scope out an accident with little intention of pulling over and actually helping. Solution: bobble-head punching. You’re in a gym with RNRR all alone, they’re tied to the ground, and you proceed to punch at their face and marvel at just how well their head bobbles. Over and over and over again.
4. For the Granny Smith Gobstopper — the drivers who think 50 is so fast; fast enough to get them access to the fast lane. It doesn’t. For this situation, I’m looking forward to the day when manufacturers arm their vehicles with magnetic-pulse-something-or-others that can stall brakes at the push of a button. Or just a super strong magnetic-pulse-something-or-other that propels any car in front of you about 20 feet.
A master remote-control would be handy, too. Just Tyco that ass-hat over a few lanes.
5. For the Boxing Bitch-Face — the person driving in the next lane who only speeds up when they sense you’re trying to move over and pass someone. Well, box them in their bitch-face. Or, if you’re a fan of the more elaborate, soup your car up with a gigantic retractable fist and show your not-so-friendly neighbor a good fisting. Good for you, not for them.
Another good option is mooning them: a.) you might distract them enough to get them to veer out of the way by mistake; b.) depending on the firmness of the bum, you might make them wish they’d never driven alongside you in the first place.
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And there you have it, folks; just a few suggestions to make your odyssey home slightly more enjoyable. Proceed with caution, but not too much caution.
