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I'm No Road Zombie, I'm a Highway Star!

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I never wanted to commute into Boston for work, but for better part of the past seven months, I’ve been doing it seven days a week..

Depending on the time of day, from Norton, it’s a good hour's ride, and if there’s an accident, heavy traffic, or inclement weather, it can take a lot longer. 

When I first started, I was a very aggressive driver, a highway star, changing lanes frequently to cut some time off my ride. Out on the highway, I was cruising at 80 mph, sometimes much faster, and I wasn't the only one. It seems 80 is the new 65, and anyone not complying is a "Slug," in my opinion.

I was amazed, no, pissed, at how many Slugs take up residence in the fast lane. There are sections of 95 on my commute where there are only three lanes, and I get it, no one wants to be in the slow lane because it’s a merging lane, but c’mon, you can’t do 65 and live in the fast lane. All I can say to those people is, "Get the fuck out of the fast lane, Sluggo!" and it's usually best accomplished with my fully erect middle finger pressed up against my driver's side window as I pass. 

The only drivers worse than Slugs are "Sloths". They drive like they're double-dosing Xanax. They're doing 50 in a 65, which is really an 80, and they're gripping the wheel tightly with both hands and looking straight ahead with bulging eyes like "Road Zombies". I don't fuck with them, they're scary and too unpredictable. I don't need any Road Zombies following me home…

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When I'm not feeling like Dale Earnhardt, and I’m doing a respectable 75 in the fast lane, and someone comes up on me, out of courtesy, I’ll signal, which is optional at least in Massachusetts, move over one lane, and give them the fast lane. But if I’m doing 80+ and some "Prick" gets up on my ass, I’ll hold the lane and make ‘em pass on the right. If it’s at night and the Prick flashes high beams, I’ll slow the fuck down just to piss 'em the fuck off. I'm always up for confrontations when I'm behind the wheel. After all, "If you don't have a little road rage in ya, then you really ain't drivin'…"

I've noticed young kids drive like they’re in a video game, and their blatant disregard for others is so fucking annoying. They text and drive, and I just want to take away their keys and put 'em in timeout. A lot of them are in Mommy's full-size luxury SUV, and they look down at me because I'm a grown man in my wife's car, an affordable 2018 Hyundai Santa Fe. Truth be told, although their acne hasn't totally cleared up, despite being three times their age and acne-free, I'm not even in their automotive league. I call them "Road Zits".

And what's with the slip-on, oversized exhaust tips kids are putting on their little cars? All of a sudden, this noise approaches, and it sounds like a swarm of killer bees. It's not a very appealing sound to this muscle car enthusiast, and I wonder how they can be street-legal if they even are. But out on 95, the "Killer Bees" are using them to terrorize other vehicles. During my commute, at least a few pass me daily, and it's always so fucking annoying…

Then there's the "Zig-Zagging Mother Fuckers". These drivers are never content with where they are, and they'll risk it all to get in front of the one car ahead of them, sometimes zig-zagging across multiple lanes to get it done. I always hope I'll see 'em further down the road parked in the breakdown lane, with a  State Trooper stopped behind 'em writing a ticket. But the Zig-Zagging Mother Fuckers seem to fly down the highway at dangerous speeds, making dangerous lane changes, and I don't know how they manage to stay under the radar, but they never seem to get pulled over…

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I see a lot of expensive SUVs on the road, and some of those people are what I call "SUV Snobs". They're driving Lincolns, Land Rovers, Teslas, Volvos, Audis, BMWs, Jaguars, Porsches, and Mercedes. These SUV Snobs, because of their expensive vehicles, feel an entitlement that's obvious in their driving habits. Fortunately, most of 'em are pretty conservative drivers, choosing to obey the speed limit and remain planted in the middle lane. The worst ones, however, are women who drive new Range Rovers, which can cost upwards of $200,000, some who bought 'em themselves, and others who, I suspect, have wealthy husbands who are taking good care of 'em. I don't fuck with women who are behind the wheels of Range Rovers. I call them "Rich Bitches," and because my pockets aren't nearly deep enough, I stay the fuck away…

To get into Boston, I go from 495 North to 95 North to Route One to the VFW Parkway, and then the Jamaica Way, the same way I've gone for years. At one point during my commute, a guy was stopped in a line of vehicles in the turning lane on the Parkway when he suddenly realized he didn’t want to turn, so he made a 90-degree turn back into the next lane. The problem was he couldn’t see fast-approaching cars in the lane, and his mirrors were useless at that angle, but that didn’t stop him from edging out. As soon as I realized what fuck he was doing, I had to make a split-second decision. Should I hit the brakes or punch it? If I hit the brakes, I definitely would’ve hit his passenger-side front fender, so I figured the only chance I had to avoid an accident was to punch it… 

My wife’s car has a 2.0 turbo four, and it can get up and go when it has to. I still don’t know how I managed to avoid scraping his car on my driver's side or hitting the granite curbing on the passenger side; there must’ve been just enough room for one sheet of paper between each, but remarkably, I didn't make any contact. I call drivers who make dangerous maneuvers like that and are oblivious to it, "Dumb Fucks"

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Out on the highway, most drivers do bizarre things without getting too personal, but on two-laners, it can get very in-your-face personal. Piss people off with unpredictable driving on a two-laner, and middle fingers pop up everywhere, like dandelions in early spring. If I'm really pissed, I'll do the double flip. With both hands off the wheel, it's a risky, but high-scoring move, not too unlike a double pike. Other times, I'll simply point to my crotch with my index finger as I pass, which is much safer and almost as effective. I call people like myself, who rely on our middle fingers to express our feelings while driving, "Hair-Trigger Bird-Brains." And I'm a proud member of that group…

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Some people like to let their feelings be known but, for whatever reason, would rather use their horns than their middle fingers. Horn-blowing is a knee-jerk reaction, and it comes quickly. Fall asleep at a red light when it turns green, and the horn section comes alive in a loud chorus of unsynchronized sounds that, in a weird way, seem to complement each other very nicely. The "Horn-Blowing Mother Fuckers" are annoying, but there's no disputing the effectiveness of a simple fucking horn…

When I see a green light at an intersection, I keep my foot on the gas, and I don't let up. I do the same for yellow. But there are people so afraid of intersections they're always preparing to stop. I hate the ones who slow down for green and come to a full stop for yellow. Shit, if it's safe and the light just turned red, I'm blowin' through the intersection with a clear conscience. I call people who are ascared of traffic lights "Light Woosies."

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Once I get off the Parkway and onto the Jamaica Way, the meridian disappears, and it becomes a white-knuckled experience, reminding me of riding the old roller coaster at Paragon Park when I was a kid and holding on for dear life… 

There's granite curbing on both sides of the narrow, winding four-lane road, two lanes in each direction, and most people driving on it are up for the insanity. You drift slightly to your right and hit the sharp edge of the curbing, and you'll likely blow a tire. You drift slightly the other way, and because there's no meridian separating the two directions, you're heading directly into oncoming traffic. And there are lots of potholes and sunken manhole covers to be avoided, which makes it even trickier.

There are only two types of drivers using that short stretch of rollercoaster, "Daring Motherfuckers" and "Pussies". The Pussies keep to themselves, choosing to hug the curbing in the right lane, while the Daring Motherfuckers hit the left lane and take incredible chances, rubbing fenders with both sides of the road, not afraid of mixing it up. You gotta respect 'em for that…

The group I'm most intimidated by is the "Body Bags." Their vehicles are all fucked up. You can tell by the dings, dents and scrapes these people fear no evil, and sideswiping you is a choice and not an accident. One more scrape isn't gonna ruin their day like it'll ruin yours. It's best to give these reckless drivers the right of way and stay clear…

After avoiding many near accidents and late nights where I may have fallen asleep at the wheel momentarily, I've altered my driving habits. No, I haven't become a Sloth or even a Slug, and I haven't resorted to being a Road Zombie either, but I have become less aggressive and more mindful of staying alive. After all, driving like a bat out of hell might've trimmed 7-8 minutes off my ride, but that's certainly not worth risking my life for.

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Drive safely, my friends! See you out on the open fucking road…