I live 19 miles from my office. Nineteen. 19. Yesterday, I was 20 minutes late for work. So this morning, I left my house 20 minutes earlier. I was 15 minutes late for work. I should explain that I live in Southeastern Massachusetts and I work in Providence, Rhode Island. Rhode Island has the worst drivers – THE WORST DRIVERS – in the country. I tell you this because if you ever find yourself in Rhode Island, you should be forewarned.
Rhode Island drivers are notorious for being completely oblivious to the fact that there is anyone else on the road other than them. They do not use directionals, they will drive across three lanes of traffic to take a turn, they will stop in the middle of the highway for no reason that is apparent to anyone other than themselves. You will look at them and the look on their face is one of complete surprise, as if they’re saying, “Hey…how did I get in this car and where am I going?” As if they just woke up in the middle of the highway with no inkling of how or why they’re there or where the fuck they’re going.
If you are anywhere in the country (believe me, I know this for a fact) and you spot a driver who seems completely incompetent behind the wheel and/or oblivious to anyone around them, I guarantee you that 9 times out of 10, the plate on their car is a Rhode Island one. I have witnessed this – time and time again – in my travels. In New Hampshire, in Washington DC, in Oregon, in Virginia, in Pennsylvania, in New York. I will look at my husband when we’re behind an idiot-driving-a-car, roll my eyes, and say, “Look at the plate.”
It took me an hour to drive 19 miles today. An hour. The car in front of me in the far left lane let 23 cars in front of him. Twenty-three. 23. I counted. Then, after letting all those cars in front of him, he moved over into the middle lane.
By the time I arrive at work, my blood pressure is so high and I am in such a shitty fucking mood that I just want to kill someone.
The image to the left is a clue as to the intelligence of the average Rhode Island driver. Do you know what that is? When you renew your registration in Rhode Island, you receive a sticker in the mail with instructions to affix it to your plate on top of the previous sticker. I once asked someone why I see plates with stickers all over them like this, and you know what I was told? “Well, it says to put it on top of the previous sticker…so that’s what we do.” For whatever fucking reason, they interpret “on top of” to mean “above,” and so they place the new sticker above the previous one…and when they reach the top of the plate, they just start sticking them all over the fucking place “because there’s no more room ‘on top of’ the other ones.” Seriously. I am not kidding you, I’m not joking, I’m not trying to make shit up to insult anyone’s intelligence…
[Why do you think Dumb and Dumber was filmed in RI? Did you think they were joking? No…it’s because Lloyd Christmas and Harry Dunne are typical Rhode Islanders!!!!!!! A large number of them really are that stupid!]
I had a coworker tell me once years ago that all her friends call her Blivvy. Why? “Because when I’m behind the wheel of my car, I’m completely oblivious to everything and everyone around me.” She seemed proud of this fact. Proud. No lie.
In Rhode Island, apparently the far left lane of the highway is the travel lane, even once they cross the line into Massachusetts. It doesn’t matter if the speed limit is 55 – or as it is in Massachusetts, 65 – they will drive 40 in the far left lane. You want to go the speed limit? You can go around them, pass them by way of the middle lane – because they’re not getting out of your way…no matter how long the line of traffic is behind them.
I have seen people texting, putting on makeup, talking with their hands (both of them)…one time – and no, I can’t make this shit up – I was standing outside my previous office on Eddy Street and the driver of a car on Eddy Street had his laptop balanced in the crook of his left arm, which was resting on the window and was typing away as he was driving. NOT. FUCKING. KIDDING.
I saw a woman painting her nails on the highway. I saw a woman with all of her makeup lined up on her dashboard during morning rush hour. PUT YOUR DAMN MAKEUP ON AT HOME OR WHEN YOU GET TO WORK. Seriously.
My morning commute is a bitch. I’m in a foul mood when I get to work, and I’m not a “morning person” to begin with, so it doesn’t make for a pleasant start to the day. The only time my commute is even somewhat bearable is during the summer. During the school year, it seems like there are 10x the number of people on the road during my morning ride. It should not take me over an hour to drive 19 miles.
Science really needs to discover teleportation because it would probably cure my high blood pressure all by itself. Either that, or I’m just going to start running people over. >:(