My daily commutes are generally uneventful. Seven years of driving in this city have developed my patience for heavy traffic and the unpredictability of other drivers. However, one particular day a few weeks ago was more exciting than usual.
On my early morning drive, this truck unashamedly and unapologetically cut me off. This is not the first time I've been cut off by other drivers. In fact, I've done my share of giving out loud honks to let the other driver know of my displeasure. So there was nothing unusual about this event. But something prompted me to take a picture of that truck. There was nothing noteworthy about it. Aside from the angus beef on the poster that made want to drive to Burger King, it was as ordinary as it could get. Little did I know, it was a foreshadowing of sorts.
On my early morning drive, this truck unashamedly and unapologetically cut me off. This is not the first time I've been cut off by other drivers. In fact, I've done my share of giving out loud honks to let the other driver know of my displeasure. So there was nothing unusual about this event. But something prompted me to take a picture of that truck. There was nothing noteworthy about it. Aside from the angus beef on the poster that made want to drive to Burger King, it was as ordinary as it could get. Little did I know, it was a foreshadowing of sorts.
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| First truck |
On my way to my private practice in the afternoon, on the same expressway, another truck cut me off. This time, the driver had the audacity to give me the middle finger when I blew my horn at him. I was tempted to overtake him and give him a dose of his own medicine but the quieter, calmer voice in my head prevailed. But I took a picture of the truck so I could report the driver to the company who hired him should I feel compelled to do so.
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| Second Truck |
Three hours later, after I saw my last patient, another truck cut me off and almost hit my fender! What are the odds of something like this happening three times in an already stressful work day? I was meaning to take a picture of that truck as well, if only to complete the series that I started, but the storyteller in me was too preoccupied with the thought of how the plot is starting to thicken. I waited for the other shoe to drop or, more appropriately, the fourth truck to cut me off, cause me to swerve uncontrollably towards the shoulder, brace for the inevitable impact, only to be airlifted away from certain death by a flying man in a red cape. Thank God nothing of that sort happened but I certainly wouldn't have minded seeing a red cape.
Driving used to bring out the worst in me. As patient as I am with most things, I had no patience for stupidity (for lack of a better word; forgive my bluntness). And I was not as forgiving as I thought I was when confronted by the recklessness of other motorists. I try to be considerate, smart, and careful on the road so I expect nothing less from others. But alas! You cannot control how other people behave. So instead of screaming my head off at that driver who changes lanes to the right after signalling left or drives really slow because he/she is busy talking to someone on the phone, I have learned to just roll with the punches.
Annoyances in driving, and in life, are necessary evils. As much as they bother me, they do have the tendency to turn the mundaneness of commuting into something more interesting. And being cut off more times than you care to be is a character-building experience.
Annoyances in driving, and in life, are necessary evils. As much as they bother me, they do have the tendency to turn the mundaneness of commuting into something more interesting. And being cut off more times than you care to be is a character-building experience.
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