Drivers

 

Hate is the feeling that comes to my heart as I drive to school. Hate is a strong word and usually I do not use it. Perhaps I should choose the word loathe. There could be other substitutions for example, despise, dislike, detest, abominate, abhor, execrate – but for now I will use hate.

There are two kinds of drivers that I hate in traffic: motorcycle drivers and those drivers who do not use their signal lights before switching lanes. (If you drive in São Paulo, you understand why I dislike motorcycle drivers. If you do not, I apologize for the comment). Yesterday as I was peacefully driving home singing along with Taylor Swift on the radio, a huge black pick-up truck just squeezed in between my car and the truck in front of mine. No warning whatsoever. Just a step-on-the-brakes-quick woman moment. Ok, so I should be used to this kind of driver, however, what woke up the beast within, was the fact that he looked at me through his right-side mirror and smile.

What a blow below the belt! What was he expecting? A pat on the back that he committed such a stupid move, and I did not crash into him? Perhaps, I should have patted my own back for being a good driver? Maybe, he wanted to see me applaud him? What a courageous dude! His poor mother. I let out such a loud son of a bitch that it could be heard even though the car windows were shut. I wonder if his IQ is high enough to read my lips.

After a few meters he went back to the left lane. It seemed like he was out to play Mario Cart in real life. Lucky for me, I am good at the game.

 

Written: April 12, 2023

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