Tag Archives: driving

Traitor – Just Sayin’

The Mr. figures The Casa has about 10 years in it for our fam, before we get antsy for a change or want something bigger.
I countered this theory with the suggestion that we’d reassess the year before Jr starts legit school, so we wouldn’t move him after he’d gained chums in his class… ‘you know, in case we decided to centralize back toward the city.” 
Like the traitor to our urban beginnings he has turned so quickly into, he cut me off fast,  “We are NOT going back!”

😐

He never COULD parallel park.

Just sayin’.

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Crosswalks.

Honk all you want, mini-van road warriors, I am NOT pulling forward in to the crosswalk at a red light.
Crosswalks in the suburbs are like a really fat line drivers think you stop in the middle of or something.
To be fair, when young-and-stupid me lit-out for the “big city” years ago, this was actually a habit I had to unlearn. After all, I had spent over 3 years driving around in the very town where we now dwell.
:::shudder, SMH, shudder:::: (the disbelief still sneaks up on me sometimes.)
I distinctly remember a few red light stops that involved angry bike messengers, winos, punkers-in-groups, etc, banging on a portion of my old Cherokee, gesturing toward the crosswalk my front tires were resting firmly in, and giving me the “WTF!?” angry eyes.
I learned quick, the crosswalk is actually supposed to be available for use to those trying to get across the street (go figure, right?) and was not designed as a space for motorists to let their vehicles creep into as they grew impatient for green-means-go.
I actually assumed that with the HUMONGAZOID growth of this particular burg, the crosswalk-as-stop-zone thing would have phased out of the driving pattern around her.
NO MA’AM!

Stopping completely behind the crosswalk frequently results in horrifying moments when I look in the rearview and panic as I watch the dummy behind me hauling A up to the rear of Frederico Escapé (yes, my car has a name,) and seriously doubting that the offending idiot is going to be capable of executing a complete stop without mangling my “Native” bumper sticker.
Not only that, but as I go to shoot the universally understood “narrowing eye daggers” to alert said late-stopper to the fact that I KNOW you were doing wrong, buddy, that look is always answered with the aforementioned “WTF!?” angry eyes!! In the minds of my fellow motorists in the burbs, I am the problem because I stopped short. I even got a HONK once, as if I had stopped half a block back and started fishing in back for my kid’s binky or something. (Oh wait, I am the only one who DOESN’T do that around these parts.– a move which seems totally acceptable out here.)
Basically, if they can’t see a herd of middle-schoolers heading toward the crosswalk, protected by the flashing lights of a “school zone,” the crosswalk doesn’t exist in the minds of these people – you have to make a HUGE SCENE about staking a claim on the crosswalk as a pedestrian, or it is fair game for every driver out here.
Well TOO BAD, Suckers – because I am not picking up what you are putting down when it comes to this.
Look out, I might just decide to come up to your window and explain, using more than dagger eyes, just how it all works.

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