Wednesday, July 05, 2006
That's why they call them Massholes
I forgot to mention the absolutely fabulous driving skills we saw demonstrated during our drive through Massachusetts on Monday. At one point, traffic was comparatively slow, though certainly not down to a crawl. Maybe 60 mph instead of the usual 120. This was due to two tractor trailers, one in each lane, who must have been talking on a tin-can-and-string telephone or something, given the amount of time they insisted on staying parallel rather than someone slowing down to let the other someone pass. No big deal, we were moving, not a problem for us.

For the guy in front of us, on the other hand, this was a major life stressor. He was in a blue convertible with a big cooler in the back seat, and he kept switching lanes and leeeeeeeaning around to try to see past (as though seeing the enormous trucks 100 feet ahead of him was not sufficient information to fuel his driving frustration). After a while he relaxed a bit and settled into the left lane, directly in front of us. So we were able to enjoy the show of his obsessive and not-very-successful coiffing maneuvers. In a convertible. With the top down. "I just can't figure out why my hair won't stay in place." Not just a twit, but a pompous twit.

So then the left-hand trailer finally was able to pull to the right and the stopped-up knot of cars was able to pass. As our Convertible Friend was passing, he made a big display of wagging his finger and shaking his head disprovingly and pointing to his own temple in a clear "use your head" sort of lecture. Which allowed me to feel perfectly justified in despising him and any offspring he might ever produce. Pompous AND condescending, truly a winning combination.

He took off, but a little later we caught up to him. He was in the right-hand lane, sort of weaving around the lane and generally not driving well. We could see the back of his head, and that he was holding something in both hands, like he was eating or playing a harmonica. I said to Willem, entirely jokingly, "Oh, look, he's eating corn on the cob, there's brilliance personified." But then we passed him - and he WAS eating corn on the cob. With both hands. While driving down the Mass Pike. Fantastic. Might as well add some hypocrisy to the list, the guy has already lost his invitation to any event I'll ever host.

So, that was fun to watch. Always nice to know that you're not the worst driver on the road. And this guy did have MA plates, so he really earned that little endearment reserved for Massachusetts drivers, "Masshole."