Let me preface this entry by telling you all that I drive a 1999 Toyota Camry. It has trouble getting up to 65 mph, I can’t unlock the driver’s side door from the outside, and the little piece that pops open my gas tank when I pull the little lever in my car is missing, forcing me to rely on popping the gas tank door open with a flathead screwdriver.
That said, I love my car. Not enough to not dream about sending it down a mountaintop while it burns in flames, but love it nonetheless.
Which is what brings me to the point of this entry: Trucks. Specifically the large, hemi-charged pick-up kind that populate the area I live in.
Most of the people who drive these monsters of the road are punks. Pure, untainted, honest-to-goodness punks. For some reason, these people feel that they are warranted special consideration on the road due to their ability to make the monthly payments on those hunks of metal. So you have enough money to afford filling your diesel tank every three days? Congratulations! Here’s a big glass of I-Don’t-Care Kool Aid to celebrate your financial security.
Every time I’m on the highway, byway, even a single lane road, whenever one of these drivers with their trucks is behind me, it’s a sure bet they will be on my tail until I either make a turn or they’re able to pass me. Who cares if it’s illegal or they’re risking other people’s lives? They have a Hemi, dang it! They are the true kings of the road!
As I previously stated, I am not labelling every person who drives one of those trucks as a person with no regard/respect for other drivers on the road. It just seems to me that many of them who get behind those wheels are…well…punks.
It would be easy for me to make the age-old joke about the reason being they own such large trucks is the desire to compensate for something in their life, be it physical or emotional. But I’m above that (at least for the next ten minutes). All I want is those drivers to remember that yes, there is a person in the car in front of you. And yes, that is an actual car. Please, keep the desire to crush it like you’re in a demolition derby, suppressed.
But hey, if you were wanting to enter your truck into a demolition derby, I wouldn’t stop you.