Road Rage

Yes, I'm updating for the first time in two months or so. Are you still checking the site, gentle reader? I hope so. I also hope you're gentle, otherwise I shouldn't be referring to you as gentle. Maybe a gentile? Either way, you probably aren't circumcised.

So, you uncircumcised bastard; you judge me and my lack of updates. Well, I've been busy. Busy as a busy bee on a particularly busy day at the honey factory.


One thing I about being busy is the fact that I am so frequently stuck in traffic...busy. This doesn't really bother me. Just like how "guns don't kill people, people kill people"...traffic doesn't get me angry, LA drivers do.

I don't know if it's because LA is filled with ego-centric, broken half-people caught in a narcissistic industry that slowly eats away at their already damaged souls; but people here drive like impatient lemmings, eager to commit vehicular suicide.

Yesterday, I went to get my laundry...usually not a life threatening task (unless you're smelling the crotch of my workout jammies), but yesterday was different. Yesterday two drivers attempted to kill me.

I was driving leisurely down La Cienega Boulevard, waiting for Beverly so I could make a left turn and head home. There I was, my precious laundry in the backseat and me waiting eagerly to change clothes that I've worn for 12 days straight.

I'm in the left hand lane, and of course, no one wants to stop, even after the light turns yellow. "Oh well!", I say to myself..."guess I'll just turn right after the light changes to red. That's almost legal!"...and that's what I did...

Barreling towards me at 45 miles per hour is "Guy who thinks approaching the light when its yellow means that he can accelerate and go through the light after it's turned red". He makes this decision even after the light was red and I was 90% through my turn; as if to say "our lives are but pittance compared to my desire to get to my destination 14 seconds earlier."

Surprisingly, I survived: his car stopped about 2 feet away from mine. He looked at me with a "hey, why didn't you let me go through the red light?" look. I looked at him with a "why did you want both of us to die?" look.





That was my first brush with death. You might be saying to yourself, "this blog is boring and I want to erase it from my web browser post-haste!", well you're impatient and deserve to be strung up by your floppy parts.

My second brush with death was more threatening and immediate, like an episode of "24".

About two minutes later, I was driving down Beverly in the right lane. In order to turn onto my street, I have to make a left; so about a block before...I signal left. Of course, the guy in the left lane speeds up so I can't get in. I wait until he's past...then I start to turn into the left lane.

I notice behind me is a guy in an 80,000 dollar Mercedes. He's gotta be about 3-4 car lengths away as I start to turn into his lane. He puts his FOOT TO THE PEDAL and speeds up to my backside, after I'm almost completely in the left lane.

After I've finished my turn he starts HONKING at me and HONKING at me. I did not cut him off; rather switched lanes, I suppose, at the point when he felt like going 45 in a 25 zone. He was never less than 1 car length away from me.

Anyway, he swerves into the right lane and pulls up next to me and starts SCREAMING and waving his fists. I flip him off and turn onto my street. He makes a left from the right lane to turn onto my block as well.

At this point, I'm wondering what this guy in an 80,000 dollar Mercedes wants from me, but I also remember I'm in the "Land o' the broken folk" AKA Hollywood, so I am cautious. He could be a music producer or athlete; and if so, there's gotta be at least an 85% chance he's carrying a gun.

I drive past my house and turn around the corner...and he follows me. He rolls down his window screaming and yelling furiously. I keep driving around in circles for about 5 minutes...with him following me...continuing to scream and yell furiously.

I manage to do some swift maneuvering and lose him for a moment. I figure I'm in the clear, so I head back to my block. That's when I notice him across the street, doing a U-Turn in the hopes of finding me.

At this point I'm wondering...what exactly causes this type of anger in people? I mean I scream and curse at passersby on a daily basis...well, not "me" per se, more the voices in my head, but either way I don't follow people even if I think they cut me off.  In fact, I cannot imagine a situation in which I would follow someone; perhaps if I see them hit a small child or if they've strapped a puppy to their roof...but beyond that, it's live and let live.

I mean, I admit I will occasionally carry on pretend races in my car with people who drive like assholes, but those are mere pipe dreams, idle reveries; like the idea of a functioning political mechanism or a dateable porn actress.

So why do people drive cray-cray...and why does it seem like all the cray-cray drivers live within a seven mile radius of Hollywood?

Something to chew on, I guess.

Anyway, I finally lost the guy by pulling in to my secluded local Wine Store, which was a great excuse to buy a Chardonnay from France and get tipsy at two in the afternoon.

So I guess alcoholism is the sweetest blessing from all of this...and the sweetest curse. Well, you know what they say; wine doesn't kill people, alcoholic Jews do.

BTW, if this harrowing story of potential death while traveling sounds slightly familiar to you, then you know me well...