Seven Days of Things That Bug Me - Day Four, 3.11.10
Friday, March 12, 2010
Blind car drivers.
I know, you're saying, "What? Blind Car Drivers? Isn't that an oxymoron? Like, duhh".
Well, it would be an oxymoron if there were no blind car drivers, but there are blind car drivers.
I'll give you some examples and then you'll know what I'm talking about.
A few years ago I was driving from Dodge City (yes there is a Dodge City; it's in Kansas where somebody once told Toto he wasn't in, anymore) to Salina, Kansas.
If you look on a map, you'll quickly notice that there are not any major roads that go between Dodge and Salina. There are, however, country roads. Two lane country roads - with no shoulder.
I was zipping along in my little Pontiac (You know - one of those cars they don't make anymore), trying to make the best time that I could. I had left later in the afternoon than I should have, and so I was probably - no, I was, exceeding the country road speed limit of 55 MPH.
Going over the little hills, around corners and through little tiny villages that had everything on the main road, I was slowly catching up to this red Lincoln. Actually, it was a RED Lincoln.
I finally caught up to the car, and I noticed it was being steered a little funny (no pun intended - steer? Dodge City, forget it). The car would drift to the middle of the road, then it would jerk back into it's own lane. It seemed like every time I was going to pass, I came upon a blind curve, a small hill or one of Kansas' millions of little villages. I'm not kidding, millions.
If there wasn't a blind curve, or a hill, or a village, the RED Lincoln would begin drifting just about the time I started to pass.
I was a little chapped (oh man, is this some sort of western farce?). I wanted to yell, or scream, or lay on my horn.
About the time I was ready to lay on the horn, the RED Lincoln would start to drift and I didn't want to scare the drunken SOB into putting the car in a ditch and being hurt - or maybe killed.
Finally, a decent long stretch of road with no village in sight, no blind curves and no hills.
I punched it. My little Pontiac went from 45-90 really quickly. As I was driving by this RED Lincoln, I glanced over to what I thought would be some drunken rancher - or, maybe a little old lady.
That's not what I saw.
Here is this attractive red-headed woman. . . . READING! I couldn't believe it, so I slowed back down for her to pass me on the right, and yep - attractive, redhead, reading. I know my jaw was interfering with the steering wheel, but hey, that happens. What almost got ME in an accident was that she looked up, turned her head towards me, smiled and waved! I don't think she even had a hand on the steering wheel! I do hope it was from the Best Sellers List.
That's one example of a blind car driver, or, I hadn't thought about this, but maybe she was Herding her Lincoln down the road. Maybe it ran on an experimental auto-pilot. What Ever. Blind.
Here are some more common instances of blind car drivers.
Going from Kansas City to Columbia, MO down I-70. I pass this non-descript car as we cross the Missouri River Bridge, glance over, and here is this fellow, leaned over his steering wheel stuffing some sort of Sub or giant Hot Dog into his mouth with BOTH hands.
You've probably seen these last few blind drivers. The woman driving in morning traffic up close to the rear view mirror, tweazing her eyebrows (my eyes are rolling as I remember her). The guy shaving on his way to work, that's commonplace. The cell phone drivers? Blind.
I'm taking care of some business outside (towards California outside) of the medium sized small town of Pahrump, NV (I say medium size small because it has a Walmart, a Home Depot, all the pizza places, BK, Taco Bell, Mickey D's, and a Carl's Jr. (whose original burger was not that big - because I'm old enough to remember the third store they opened),
There are two, yes, (2) stoplights in the whole town. It's between Las Vegas and Death Valley (one's a bandit, the other takes your life).
Pahrump's current claim to fame is that:
1) There is a do-it-yourself laundramat called Dirty Laundry. That is not the strange part. What is strange is that it is owned by Heidi Fleisch. Yep, that Heidi Fleish.
2) In the small Yellow Pages here is a listing for Brothels. Brothels you say? Brothels. Never in my life, not in the Yellow Pages of ANY town's Yellow Pages have I ever found a listing for Brothels.
Now, Pahrump is 60 miles from Las Vegas with a full-time population of about 25,000 people. It has five brothels.
Think about it. Did I tell you that the state built a four lane highway from Las Vegas to Pahrump because of the business traffic? (Remember, sixty miles away.) They must pay their taxes on time.
The brothels here are such a common thing that twice a year, a Las Vegas motorcycle club has what it calls "The Pahrump Brothel Run". I'm not lying.
I'm not sure how these guys make it back to Las Vegas, because according to the locals, they make a stop at every one. Not only that, they call the brothels a month in advance so the brothels can make sure they have enough . . . . . daytime performers(?) on staff.
Sorry, I got off track - but you can see why, can't you?
Can anyone tell me why my DW keeps keys to both cars? We're closer to Death Valley than Pahrump, but she won't even let me drive to Walmart by myself - and I'm old. Born in the first half of the last century.
I got off-track again.
Blind Drivers of cars. They really bug me. They're dangerous to all of us.
Oh, forgot to mention the last one.
My DW and I were going to dinner and a show in Las Vegas. Going in the back way down Ft. Apache. We were stopped at a light, and next to us pulled up a woman in a BENTLEY! With her left hand she was on a cell phone. In her right hand was a sandwich or Danish or something. When the light turned green, she drove ahead with no hands on the wheel through a heavily travelled intersection. A BENTLEY. I almost cried.
I had my wife drive on the way back.