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A couple of months ago, I made the wisest economic decision of my postgrad career. I sold my gas-guzzling pickup truck to a young Marine and bought a small used sedan. I knew my life would change for the better as I saved hundreds of dollars in gas, but I never realized how much my life would change for the worse. I realized I would probably be sad when I couldn’t throw empty beer cans in my bed or drive through mud puddles for absolutely no reason at all, but I would get over it. What I didn’t realize is the disrespect I would now receive on the road.
When you drive a truck, drivers tend to give you a little bit of room. Whether it’s respect or just fear that you will run them over, they usually stay out of the way and give you space. Other drivers would let me out in front of them, let me merge, and they would let me go first at stop signs. They would let me go ahead at the one-lane bridge, and it may be a Virginia thing, but many would wave at me as I drove by. I never drove like a douche, and I respected everyone around me. But now I will forever regret the day that I took a one-way flight to Cleveland on a Tuesday morning to buy a 2006 Mercury Milan with a salvage title from some guy named Tony, which is a story in and of itself.
I’ve never owned a small car. I’ve had a couple trucks and a Pontiac Bonneville. Nobody messes with the guy driving an old Pontiac Bonneville except the police, which is again another story for another time. I have usually been able to enjoy the road besides psycho Northern Virginia drivers, but this new small car life is making me question everything. Every driver out there hates me. They bully me. They cut me off and ignore me when I’m trying to get over. Everyone rides my ass so close that when I sneeze they turn on their wipers. I feel like some little bitch out there getting bullied by 17-year-old girls and elderly people behind the wheels of giant metal machines. I can’t even defend myself. If I tailgate back, I get laughed at. If I cut someone off, I will get run over. This is bullshit. I’ve had some rough experiences so far:
Prius tailgated me so hard that I couldn’t even see their hood in my rear view mirror.
Tractor trailer came right on over into my lane and just pushed me right into the median.
Waited my turn at the one-lane bridge and while I crossed slowly a Maserati came barreling across as if I was invisible.
Some douche in a Tesla almost t-boned the shit out of me in a gas station parking lot that he decided he wanted to cut through.
I cannot think of any other reason for all the disrespect other than the fact that I drive a basic ass little silver car. I am a good driver, hell, I even have NASCAR bloodlines. I use my blinker, I don’t tailgate, I pay attention, and give everyone all the room they need. So why am I a public enemy? Do I have a death wish written on my back window that I can’t see? Did Tony sell me a cursed car? Am I going to die? I don’t know, but I sure as hell miss my truck now..
Image via Shutterstock
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@delph_13
@gdelph13
gdelph
what a wuss
Fuck you and your District
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My dream has always been to start a gang of Vespa scooter riders that wear cardigans instead of leather jackets with the imprint “Cardigan Cartel” embroidered on the backs of the cardigans and then we all just ride really slow and take up the whole road until going from dive bar to dive bar and hustling bikers in pool while we smoke rich cigars and drink foofy pussy drinks because we’re comfortable with own sexuality and we can slay pussy with the best of them (*raised fist emoji and stuff*).
I have never wanted to be part of anything as badly as I want to be part of this.
You must know my GF’s neighbor, dude has like 10 of the little fuckers in a parking spot of their apartment complex. It takes every fiber of my being not to drive into them like they’re bowling pins. I have no idea why I feel that way, he’s an alright dude.
Looks like we found our first member. Get me in contact with this dude and let’s all band together and claim our turf
*100 emoji*
why didn’t you just get hit by the Tesla and Maserati? Then you’d be rich enough to not have to worry about owning a gas guzzling truck
Parking a truck in NOVA or DC is the worst unless you are at some civilized place like the grocery store.
Even the sweetest sixty year old lady would pull a knife on you for a better parking spot at a Harris Teeter in NOVA.
Buying a car with a salvaged title. PGP
I’d never heard of a Mercury Milan until I read this piece.
I’ll hook on the street before I give up my truck. I couldn’t imagine a hell worse than driving across Texas in something besides a pickup
Unless its a Ford, Honda Ridgeline or Nissan Titan. Those are all equally as shitty
I think it’s just you. I mean, I drive a 17 year old compact car. People generally don’t fuck with me… because it looks like shit, and they’re worried I don’t have insurance.
It’ll be different whenever I end up replacing it, but for now I enjoy the extra space they give me as someone who looks like they’ve literally got nothing to lose.
That reminds me of my technique to not get hassled by panhandlers walking home from work or the bars after dark. Wear my ratty winter jacket I’ve had since college, relax my body, and just kinda put off a zombie vibe. Nobody wants to fuck with that.
Virginia drivers in general are psycho. Hampton Roads being a heavily populated military area is a nightmare with drivers from all over the place. I feel your pain.
Once you go east of Richmond, the driving improves dramatically.
You still have the phone number of that Marine you sold the truck to or…?
*cough* I own a truck…
I enjoy tacos. Sup?
My conversations with women usually don’t last this long. Somebody tag me out.
I would hook you up if he wasn’t already married.