Showing posts with label driving. Show all posts
Showing posts with label driving. Show all posts

Thursday, October 16, 2008

pedestrians

While you, as a driver, might find it inconvenient to your oh-so-very-important and busy life, in the State of Georgia, pedestrians in the crosswalk always have the right-of-way. This is especially true if you have a red light and they have a walk sign. Yes, you can turn right on red at most intersections, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't try to avoid hitting pedestrians. Not only do they have the right-of-way, which makes hitting them illegal, but they also have a tendency to leave inconvenient dents in your car.

You are not more important than everyone else.

Now, I am the first to admit that I suffer from ego-centric behavior on occasion; however, when everyone else is stuck in traffic, you do not have the right to drive down the emergency lane to pass everyone and then try to merge back into traffic at the front of the line. You are just not that important. If your wife is in the car giving birth, I'll give you a bye on this one occasion. Otherwise, get in line, buddy. We've all got someplace to be.

Monday, October 13, 2008

turn signals

I contemplated titling this post "They didn't put that little stick on the left side of your steering wheel to give the switch for your headlights extra interest," but that seemed a little long-winded. Seriously though. Turn signals? Not an optional feature. They come standard on every single car that comes off the factory line (at least here in the United States) and, technically, you're required by law to use them. They tell the drivers around you what you're going to do because, contrary to what your self-centered mind might be telling you, we don't actually know what you're thinking. I know some drivers (mostly men) seem to want to avoid giving away their plans, as if you think that all the other drivers on the road are out to get you and will swoop across three lanes of traffic to cut you off if they find out that you want to change lanes. Let me just go ahead and let you in on a little secret: We actually don't really care enough about you to be out to get you. Until you cut into my lane without signaling and make me slam on my breaks to avoid hitting you. Then I do care. A lot. And then I might be out to get you.