driving Morons on the road

Road smug

I don’t suffer from road rage (not travelling by car in times of heavy traffic when I’m in a hurry helps a lot).

If anything, I suffer from road smugness. I don’t shout at idiots on the road. Instead I make smart-arse remarks, to myself or to others in the car. “Yeah, well done mate.” “What are you doing?” “Yeah it’s hard to reach the indicator switch, isn’t it.” “You can’t turn there, you know.”

I will try and hand signal people if it’s helpful. The other day I signalled to a lady who, after dark, hadn’t turned her lights on. She then did so. Just a bit further down the road the police were doing a breathtest, so I probably saved her a fine.

And I know I’m not the universe’s best driver. Occasionally my smart-arse remark will be a little more contrite: “Ooh. I’ve done that.”

By Daniel Bowen

Transport blogger / campaigner and spokesperson for the Public Transport Users Association / professional geek.
Bunurong land, Melbourne, Australia.
Opinions on this blog are all mine.

4 replies on “Road smug”

At the end of the day, we burn up less energy being smug. And if we get a laugh, even better. Unless the road rage sufferer starts tailgating you, they’re invariably ignored anyway.

I use the horn quite a bit when someone’s rate of movement isn’t to my liking.

But I also suffer from road smugness. Like ‘it’s not going to get any greener’ and ‘there are big signs – you can’t park there – and they also say you’re going to be towed away if you do’.

Bring back the Toxic Custard MORON OF THE WEEK award.

My favourite comment to myself is “Oh, did you get your licence out of a weeties packet?” I’ve been saying it forever and I guess it goes back to when you used to get some sort of trinket/prize when you first opened the packet up.

Years ago, when I first started driving cabs, my road-smug comments got me into strife. Having picked up a well known presenter from Chanel 9 I was driving through Richmond when I noticed the driver behind me brushing his luxuriant hair while gazing into his rear-view mirror. “Oh yes, you are soooo gorgeous” I muttered to myself. There was a sharp intake of breath from the rear seat. Opening my mouth wide enough for the other foot I turned and said “Of course, I didn’t mean you”. “I’ll get out here thank you driver” was the last of my celebrity conversation.

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