I Am The Only Sane Driver In LA (Apart From Clare)
Most drivers in LA are lunatics. FACT. Every time I get behind the wheel I’m aware of this. You see, you can’t really get around the city without a car so people spend hours everyday driving from a to b, to c to d… and so on. One consequence of spending so much time in a car is a lack of patience, compassion and consideration for humanity. When traveling by foot, bus or rail one mingles with others. I’m not saying we all harmoniously chat to strangers but there’s an awareness of other peoples’ space, needs and wants. This disappears when solitary individuals become encased in a metal box on wheels.
I spent a gorgeous afternoon in Griffith Park today. The sun’s been absent for the past few weeks. And it’s been quite chilly. There’s something depressing about seeing palm trees set against a backdrop of grey sky. So, I headed out with the express intention of enjoying the return of the good weather. Nestling in the hills of the park is LA’s largest playground. It’s called Shane’s Inspiration and T loves it. And when she’s happy, I’m happy too. Life’s easier when she’s giggling and laughing and we were both in fine fettle when we got in the car to drive home.
We were half way back when I had to take a left turn. It’s the US equivalent of a right turn in the UK and can sometimes hold up traffic behind you. But the manoeuvre is perfectly legal so cars will wait patiently for you. Right? Wrong! Some muppet, livid at being held up, wound his window down and started screaming obscenities at me. I couldn’t really hear… something about my mother?!? This was followed by the finger as he managed to squeeze past me. I was so angry at this injustice, the animal in me wanted to drive after the little fucker, drag him out of his car and beat him senseless. Of course, I would never do that. I’m a lover not a fighter. And besides, it’s not really the done thing with a two-year-old in the back. But it’s a horrible thing suffering the brunt of someone else’s road rage. One minute I was driving without a care in the world. The next my whole body was tense with anger. My earlier happiness knocked entirely out of kilter.
Most of the time I quite enjoy driving here because the traffic’s nothing compared to London. I can get to most places within 20 minutes… 40 minutes top. Back in London most journeys took at least an hour… and that was just to Sainsburys. But drivers here are haters. If you hesitate in your driving you’ll suffer a frenzied horn attack from anyone that feels you slowed his journey by up to a millisecond.
I think the way a city drives tells you a great deal about its psyche. Take LA for example, on the surface it’s all smiles but woe betide anyone who fucks you off. So, if you piss someone off while you’re driving they really let you have it. As far as they’re concerned you’re mean and nasty. You asked for it. You deserve it.
Did I deserve it? No of course not. But it doesn’t matter now. I’m like, so totally over it. Tra la la la la. Grrrnash!
