Have you ever played the refined version of chicken at a stop sign? It's the uber polite, let the other person go who happens to be waving you on? Then at the same time you both start to roll into the intersection only to have to play all over again?
I remember moving to St. Louis from Oregon and my mother's utter distaste for St. Louis drivers. This super friendly town is downright maddening in its politeness. Suddenly my mom starts screaming at passing cars something about rules and I don't know what else. Hey I was a kid and had perfected the art of tuning her out.
And then I started driving. Damn if I didn't start repeating my mother. Her messages must have seeped through because they sounded awfully similar, although I added new expletives to the diatribe.
Here's the thing, that polite chicken game is routine around here. I have to endure it about once a week for the past thirty years. Oh and then there is the I'll-stop-traffic-to-let-you-make-a-left-turn game. I don't know which pisses me off more - when there is a whole long line of traffic behind the stopper or NONE. Sweet Jesus, just drive and I will manage to kill myself on my own time thankyouverymuch.
YOU'RE NOT BEING POLITE TO THE PEOPLE BEHIND YOU IF YOU ARE NOT FOLLOWING THE RULES.
These are the same people who drive 45 in the fast lane just to teach you a lesson about speeding.
But by gum, they are polite. And will kill you with a smile.
AND I HATE THEM VERY MUCH
I would walk, but the assholes stop traffic to let me cross the street. And as I start to cross a car from the opposite direction nearly hits me. I can't escape them. They are literally killing people with their kindness.
Follow the rules, drive the speed limit, stay out of the left lane, and take your damn turn. GO. I'll wait.
Showing posts with label Driving. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Driving. Show all posts
Thursday, September 06, 2012
Friday, February 17, 2012
Friday Fragments - Feb 17, 2012
What a week, what a week...
Saturday night I headed out with my friends for a girls night. We went to see One For The Money and all enjoyed it a lot. Afterwards we were going to find a watering hole for a few drinks. I suggested that we go pester my brother who was at a bar across the parking lot trying to meet up with a girl he met the week before. Well, the girl never showed up so we hung out, basically ruining any chance he had with the rest of the women at the bar. That's sisterly love, ain't it?
It's been a while since I drank like that and had to endure a whopper of a hangover the next morning. Aspirin and a tall cup of water fixed me up by noon. It was totally worth it, though. I even got out on the dance floor and flailed without injuring innocent bystanders (I may have a history with that).
Monday our big snowstorm hit, it was so pretty. It was more than a dusting, maybe an inch or so? Other than a few accidents while it was snowing, it really didn't impact the area much and didn't hang around for long. BOO... I never got outside to take a picture of the pretty white stuff.
My daughter spent the week in Las Vegas for work. Anybody else jealous? I know she worked her ass off, but still, what a cool job.
I know everybody is looking for something fun to do this weekend - you should come to St. Louis! We're hosting the second largest Mardi Gras party in the nation. I guess if you're going to travel somewhere for Mardi Gras you should go to New Orleans. But you shouldn't dismiss the party happeneing here. St. Louisans looooooooove an excuse for public intoxication. I doubt I'll make it down to Soulard (old French district) this year. It kind of makes me sad. I've always had a great time when I attended in the past. Lots of milling around in a very old French neighborhood, stopping at all of the bars and various booths, and of course collecting beads. No, I've never had to flash to get my beads, usually batting my eyes is enough to get a few strands. I had an awesome collection for a while. I'm sure they're hiding in a box somewhere in my basement.
Laissez le bon temps rouler! Yeah, like anyone in St. Louis could say that correctly. That's okay, in a month - exactly from today - we'll all be copping an Irish accent and playing up another chance for public intoxication. Other than the jacked up weather I really do love this town.
If you really do come to St. Louis, make sure you read last Wednesday's post. It was the truths of driving in and around St. Louis - real important stuff. AND if you've ever owned a real piece of crap car, maybe preventing you from taking such a roadtrip, you should check out Tuesday's post and see how many points you can claim. I think I have 35 points.
Saturday night I headed out with my friends for a girls night. We went to see One For The Money and all enjoyed it a lot. Afterwards we were going to find a watering hole for a few drinks. I suggested that we go pester my brother who was at a bar across the parking lot trying to meet up with a girl he met the week before. Well, the girl never showed up so we hung out, basically ruining any chance he had with the rest of the women at the bar. That's sisterly love, ain't it?
It's been a while since I drank like that and had to endure a whopper of a hangover the next morning. Aspirin and a tall cup of water fixed me up by noon. It was totally worth it, though. I even got out on the dance floor and flailed without injuring innocent bystanders (I may have a history with that).
Monday our big snowstorm hit, it was so pretty. It was more than a dusting, maybe an inch or so? Other than a few accidents while it was snowing, it really didn't impact the area much and didn't hang around for long. BOO... I never got outside to take a picture of the pretty white stuff.
My daughter spent the week in Las Vegas for work. Anybody else jealous? I know she worked her ass off, but still, what a cool job.
I know everybody is looking for something fun to do this weekend - you should come to St. Louis! We're hosting the second largest Mardi Gras party in the nation. I guess if you're going to travel somewhere for Mardi Gras you should go to New Orleans. But you shouldn't dismiss the party happeneing here. St. Louisans looooooooove an excuse for public intoxication. I doubt I'll make it down to Soulard (old French district) this year. It kind of makes me sad. I've always had a great time when I attended in the past. Lots of milling around in a very old French neighborhood, stopping at all of the bars and various booths, and of course collecting beads. No, I've never had to flash to get my beads, usually batting my eyes is enough to get a few strands. I had an awesome collection for a while. I'm sure they're hiding in a box somewhere in my basement.
Laissez le bon temps rouler! Yeah, like anyone in St. Louis could say that correctly. That's okay, in a month - exactly from today - we'll all be copping an Irish accent and playing up another chance for public intoxication. Other than the jacked up weather I really do love this town.
If you really do come to St. Louis, make sure you read last Wednesday's post. It was the truths of driving in and around St. Louis - real important stuff. AND if you've ever owned a real piece of crap car, maybe preventing you from taking such a roadtrip, you should check out Tuesday's post and see how many points you can claim. I think I have 35 points.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Driving In St Louis
You know those emails that go around about "you know you're
from..."? Well here's one about driving in this precious little city -
point for point funny as hell and so true.
1. There are 75 "unofficial neighborhoods" in the City of St. Louis .
St. Louisans commonly give directions--especially for restaurants--to
strangers based on these neighborhoods, which aren't marked on any maps
that are handed out by the tourist board, the AAA or MapQuest .
2. There are 54 school districts--on the Missouri side alone--each of
which has their own school bus system with scheduled times to block
traffic.
3. There are 91 official municipalities in St. Louis County . Each
municipality has its own rules and regulations, and often their own
police departments.
4. More importantly, most have their own snow removal contracts so
it's not uncommon to drive down a road in winter and have one block
plowed, the next salted, the next piled with snow and the last
partially cleared by residents wanting to get out of their driveways.
5. Snow plowing is never a problem in the City of St. Louis . They
plow nothing, and if the forecast calls for snow, they close
everything. Except on "The Hill" (refer to #1 above) where each
homeowner goes out to the street and shovels out one car-sized
rectangle and then stands watch over it.
6. Any car parked longer than 4 hours in the city is considered a
parts store.
7. The City of Ballwin actually proposed that drivers use connecting
strip mall parking lots to get from place to place rather than drive on
Manchester road to cut the traffic on Manchester . (And for good reason.
There is a stoplight at every intersection on Manchester ).
8. Laclede Station Road , McCausland , Lindbergh , Watson , Reavis
Barracks, Fee Fee, McKnight, Airport Road , Midland , McKelvey , and Olive
mysteriously change names as you cross intersections.
9. Gravois Road, Spoede and Chouteau can only be pronounced by St.
Louis natives. (Highway 40 as is pronounced as " farty ".)
10. A St. Louisan from South County has never been to North County and
vise versa . West County just has everything delivered.
11. No native St. Louisan knows that Lindbergh runs from South County
to North County . And if you tell them, they will not believe you.
12. Lindbergh belongs to every neighborhood except Kirkwood , who had
the nerve to creatively change the name to Kirkwood Road ." (Which may
be the reason for number 11.)
13. There are 2 interchanges to exit from Highway 40 onto Clayton Road
and 2 for Big Bend . Stay alert, people!
14. If you need directions to O'Fallon , make sure to specify Illinois
or Missouri . This is also true for Troy , Maryville , St. Charles ,
Springfield and Columbia .
15. The Page Avenue extension and Airport expansion projects took over
20 years to get approved. St. Louisans lost track of how many political
figures claimed them as their own ideas.
16. St. Louisans were aghast when the federal government required them
to redo the highway signs to indicate that the federal highways went to
cities in other states instead of local municipalities.
17. Drivers are starting to cut their OWN plates rather than go
through the Missouri Department of Motor Vehicles to get new tags. You
can also purchase tags from dealers behind Quick Shops in the city. They
are cheaper, the clerks are nicer, and the service is faster.
18. Lambert Field and St. Louis International Airport really are the
same place. The East Terminal, however, is a different place.
19. Highway 270 is our daily version of the NASCAR circuit.
20. You can go all four directions on Highway 270: North and South in
West County , East and West in South County , and East and West in North
County. Confused? So are St. Louis drivers.
21. The outer belt is Highway 270 which turns into Highway 255 in
South County . The inner belt is Highway 170. Highway 370 is an
outer-outer belt. Highway 40 is the same as Interstate 64 (but only
through the middle part of St. Louis ). If you are listening to traffic
reports and they are calling it 64, the traffic jam is in Illinois . If
they are calling it 40, the traffic jam is in Missouri .
22. The morning rush hour is from 6:00 to 10:00 AM. The evening rush
hour is from 3:00 to 7:00 PM. Friday's rush hour starts Thursday
morning.
23. Never ever try to cross a bridge in St. Louis during rush hour
unless you have a sack lunch and a port-a-potty in the car.
24. "Yield" signs are for decoration only. No native St. Louisan will
ever grasp the concept. (Actually, the drivers who are supposed to yield
will not, and the drivers who are not supposed to yield will wait
politely for the ones who are supposed to yield, so it all works out.)
25. If someone actually has their turn signal on, it is probably a
factory defect, or has been on for the last 17 miles.
26. Construction on Highways 40, 64, 70, 255, 270, 44, 55 and 170 is a
way of life, and a permanent form of entertainment.
27. All blue-haired old ladies in Cadillac's driving on Olive west of
270 have the right of way.
28. If it snows or rains, stay home!!!!!!!!!!!!
29. It is called a rolling stop at any stop sign intersection. Only
native St. Louisans can do it just right.
30. In West County, 20 cars will go through a yellow light. Longest
yellow lights I have ever seen. If you slow or stop on a yellow light,
you will get rear-ended or someone will angrily sound their horn at
you.
1. There are 75 "unofficial neighborhoods" in the City of St. Louis .
St. Louisans commonly give directions--especially for restaurants--to
strangers based on these neighborhoods, which aren't marked on any maps
that are handed out by the tourist board, the AAA or MapQuest .
2. There are 54 school districts--on the Missouri side alone--each of
which has their own school bus system with scheduled times to block
traffic.
3. There are 91 official municipalities in St. Louis County . Each
municipality has its own rules and regulations, and often their own
police departments.
4. More importantly, most have their own snow removal contracts so
it's not uncommon to drive down a road in winter and have one block
plowed, the next salted, the next piled with snow and the last
partially cleared by residents wanting to get out of their driveways.
5. Snow plowing is never a problem in the City of St. Louis . They
plow nothing, and if the forecast calls for snow, they close
everything. Except on "The Hill" (refer to #1 above) where each
homeowner goes out to the street and shovels out one car-sized
rectangle and then stands watch over it.
6. Any car parked longer than 4 hours in the city is considered a
parts store.
7. The City of Ballwin actually proposed that drivers use connecting
strip mall parking lots to get from place to place rather than drive on
Manchester road to cut the traffic on Manchester . (And for good reason.
There is a stoplight at every intersection on Manchester ).
8. Laclede Station Road , McCausland , Lindbergh , Watson , Reavis
Barracks, Fee Fee, McKnight, Airport Road , Midland , McKelvey , and Olive
mysteriously change names as you cross intersections.
9. Gravois Road, Spoede and Chouteau can only be pronounced by St.
Louis natives. (Highway 40 as is pronounced as " farty ".)
10. A St. Louisan from South County has never been to North County and
vise versa . West County just has everything delivered.
11. No native St. Louisan knows that Lindbergh runs from South County
to North County . And if you tell them, they will not believe you.
12. Lindbergh belongs to every neighborhood except Kirkwood , who had
the nerve to creatively change the name to Kirkwood Road ." (Which may
be the reason for number 11.)
13. There are 2 interchanges to exit from Highway 40 onto Clayton Road
and 2 for Big Bend . Stay alert, people!
14. If you need directions to O'Fallon , make sure to specify Illinois
or Missouri . This is also true for Troy , Maryville , St. Charles ,
Springfield and Columbia .
15. The Page Avenue extension and Airport expansion projects took over
20 years to get approved. St. Louisans lost track of how many political
figures claimed them as their own ideas.
16. St. Louisans were aghast when the federal government required them
to redo the highway signs to indicate that the federal highways went to
cities in other states instead of local municipalities.
17. Drivers are starting to cut their OWN plates rather than go
through the Missouri Department of Motor Vehicles to get new tags. You
can also purchase tags from dealers behind Quick Shops in the city. They
are cheaper, the clerks are nicer, and the service is faster.
18. Lambert Field and St. Louis International Airport really are the
same place. The East Terminal, however, is a different place.
19. Highway 270 is our daily version of the NASCAR circuit.
20. You can go all four directions on Highway 270: North and South in
West County , East and West in South County , and East and West in North
County. Confused? So are St. Louis drivers.
21. The outer belt is Highway 270 which turns into Highway 255 in
South County . The inner belt is Highway 170. Highway 370 is an
outer-outer belt. Highway 40 is the same as Interstate 64 (but only
through the middle part of St. Louis ). If you are listening to traffic
reports and they are calling it 64, the traffic jam is in Illinois . If
they are calling it 40, the traffic jam is in Missouri .
22. The morning rush hour is from 6:00 to 10:00 AM. The evening rush
hour is from 3:00 to 7:00 PM. Friday's rush hour starts Thursday
morning.
23. Never ever try to cross a bridge in St. Louis during rush hour
unless you have a sack lunch and a port-a-potty in the car.
24. "Yield" signs are for decoration only. No native St. Louisan will
ever grasp the concept. (Actually, the drivers who are supposed to yield
will not, and the drivers who are not supposed to yield will wait
politely for the ones who are supposed to yield, so it all works out.)
25. If someone actually has their turn signal on, it is probably a
factory defect, or has been on for the last 17 miles.
26. Construction on Highways 40, 64, 70, 255, 270, 44, 55 and 170 is a
way of life, and a permanent form of entertainment.
27. All blue-haired old ladies in Cadillac's driving on Olive west of
270 have the right of way.
28. If it snows or rains, stay home!!!!!!!!!!!!
29. It is called a rolling stop at any stop sign intersection. Only
native St. Louisans can do it just right.
30. In West County, 20 cars will go through a yellow light. Longest
yellow lights I have ever seen. If you slow or stop on a yellow light,
you will get rear-ended or someone will angrily sound their horn at
you.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
I Saw A ZEBRA Today!
...and I wasn't even at the zoo!
Today was a scheduled day off work to deal with some details with our new business. It was kind of a cool day, like a mini vacation. I got to DRIVE, something I simply adore. I spent the better part of the day winding through country roads in the middle of BFE with the destination of Sullivan MO. Yeah, I know, it's a straight shot down the highway from my house, but there was a little detour stop I had to make, so all morning I was winding through roads that make me green to the gills as a passenger. As the driver, though, AWESOME!
And that's when I saw what resembled a zebra, but it turned quickly so all I could see was the ass end of a horse. Then as I got closer, IT WAS A ZEBRA! The roads were too twisty for me to grab my camera to PROVE I saw a live zebra in someone's yard like a damn horse. But it was there. And I passed several old barns that would have been awesome pictures, but again, twisty roads, not wanting to drive into a ditch or a pond...
But here is the lone picture I DID take without threat of swerving off into a ditch or pond
To sum it up - beautiful day, awesome drive, no asshole traffic issues, and a FREAKING ZEBRA. In the middle of Missouri. Where zebras are not native. In case you're confused.
Today was a scheduled day off work to deal with some details with our new business. It was kind of a cool day, like a mini vacation. I got to DRIVE, something I simply adore. I spent the better part of the day winding through country roads in the middle of BFE with the destination of Sullivan MO. Yeah, I know, it's a straight shot down the highway from my house, but there was a little detour stop I had to make, so all morning I was winding through roads that make me green to the gills as a passenger. As the driver, though, AWESOME!
And that's when I saw what resembled a zebra, but it turned quickly so all I could see was the ass end of a horse. Then as I got closer, IT WAS A ZEBRA! The roads were too twisty for me to grab my camera to PROVE I saw a live zebra in someone's yard like a damn horse. But it was there. And I passed several old barns that would have been awesome pictures, but again, twisty roads, not wanting to drive into a ditch or a pond...
But here is the lone picture I DID take without threat of swerving off into a ditch or pond
To sum it up - beautiful day, awesome drive, no asshole traffic issues, and a FREAKING ZEBRA. In the middle of Missouri. Where zebras are not native. In case you're confused.
Wednesday, February 03, 2010
It's Cujo's Fault That I Can't Drive A Stick
I am an awesome driver. I can even teach you how to parallel park, but I cannot drive a stick.
My best bud, Booty, and I drove to northern Missouri to visit some friends. We went in her car as mine was unreliable, but that meant I couldn't share in the driving duties for the four hour trip because I don't know how to drive her car.
It was decided that over the weekend I should finally learn how to drive a stick. It was shameful that I had gone so long without being taught!
Booty took the passenger seat and I hopped into the driver seat. Friend hubby, Shane, got into his own car and led us around town since he knew all of the best places with hills and no traffic. I was doing good coordinating three pedals with two feet. I've always driven with one foot for gas and brakes so it was just a matter of getting used to using my left foot for anything besides keeping the floor mat in place.
Like I said, I was doing good. I was getting into a groove and Booty was reassuring me how easy this all was. And then, Shane decided to amp it up and took us to a steeper hill. As we drove down the hill Booty coached me through the pedals and the shifting the gears... whew... we made it to the bottom...
And then Shane turned around and went back up the hill.
And I followed.
But I couldn't quite get up the hill and rolled backwards.
TOWARDS A DAMN LAKE!
BRAKE BRAKE BRAKE BRAKE BRAKE!!!!
Pant pant pant. Roll forward, but before I could get any speed up the hill, Cujo came running toward the car, foam and slobber oozing out of his mouth. A rope halted the killer dog before he reached the car, but barely. Booty was screaming bloody murder as she frantically rolled up the window. I swear there were paw marks on the passenger door.
Roll back toward the lake. More screaming. BRAKE BRAKE BRAKE BRAKE - OHMIGAWD WE'RE GUNNA DIE!
Gas it up, start up the hill, the car gasps, Cujo pulls on the rope a little harder, growling, barking, us screaming, car rolls backwards. AUGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!
I manage to find a little more ground to backup the car, to get a little more momentum. Up the hill... not quite to the top, but further than before... roll backwards... Cujo snarling, rope pulling a little more, lake getting closer.
If only we could swap seats. We talked about it, discussed climbing over each other so Booty could drive her precious little car out of this hellish and not so funny end of our lives.
One more time. A little more ground eeked from Cujo's yard, just a little closer to our watery death. With white knuckles gripping the steering wheel and Booty manning the gear shift we started up the hill yet again. Cujo pawing and snarling for a little taste of our blood, a lake looming in the rearview mirror, a small car lurched up the hill, slowly creeping to the top, not stopping to check for cross traffic. We agreed getting side swiped by a tractor was a better end than anything at the bottom of that damn hill.
And we did it. I pulled over and Booty and I flew out of the car to finally swap seats. Shane drove off, laughing maniacally. Bastard.
I'm too traumatized to drive a stick.
My best bud, Booty, and I drove to northern Missouri to visit some friends. We went in her car as mine was unreliable, but that meant I couldn't share in the driving duties for the four hour trip because I don't know how to drive her car.
It was decided that over the weekend I should finally learn how to drive a stick. It was shameful that I had gone so long without being taught!
Booty took the passenger seat and I hopped into the driver seat. Friend hubby, Shane, got into his own car and led us around town since he knew all of the best places with hills and no traffic. I was doing good coordinating three pedals with two feet. I've always driven with one foot for gas and brakes so it was just a matter of getting used to using my left foot for anything besides keeping the floor mat in place.
Like I said, I was doing good. I was getting into a groove and Booty was reassuring me how easy this all was. And then, Shane decided to amp it up and took us to a steeper hill. As we drove down the hill Booty coached me through the pedals and the shifting the gears... whew... we made it to the bottom...
And then Shane turned around and went back up the hill.
And I followed.
But I couldn't quite get up the hill and rolled backwards.
TOWARDS A DAMN LAKE!
BRAKE BRAKE BRAKE BRAKE BRAKE!!!!
Pant pant pant. Roll forward, but before I could get any speed up the hill, Cujo came running toward the car, foam and slobber oozing out of his mouth. A rope halted the killer dog before he reached the car, but barely. Booty was screaming bloody murder as she frantically rolled up the window. I swear there were paw marks on the passenger door.
Roll back toward the lake. More screaming. BRAKE BRAKE BRAKE BRAKE - OHMIGAWD WE'RE GUNNA DIE!
Gas it up, start up the hill, the car gasps, Cujo pulls on the rope a little harder, growling, barking, us screaming, car rolls backwards. AUGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!
I manage to find a little more ground to backup the car, to get a little more momentum. Up the hill... not quite to the top, but further than before... roll backwards... Cujo snarling, rope pulling a little more, lake getting closer.
If only we could swap seats. We talked about it, discussed climbing over each other so Booty could drive her precious little car out of this hellish and not so funny end of our lives.
One more time. A little more ground eeked from Cujo's yard, just a little closer to our watery death. With white knuckles gripping the steering wheel and Booty manning the gear shift we started up the hill yet again. Cujo pawing and snarling for a little taste of our blood, a lake looming in the rearview mirror, a small car lurched up the hill, slowly creeping to the top, not stopping to check for cross traffic. We agreed getting side swiped by a tractor was a better end than anything at the bottom of that damn hill.
And we did it. I pulled over and Booty and I flew out of the car to finally swap seats. Shane drove off, laughing maniacally. Bastard.
I'm too traumatized to drive a stick.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)