After more than a year of commuting by car rather than subway/bike/my own two sturdy legs, I have a pronouncement to make: The rudest drivers on the road are usually ensconced in a Jeep.
If I’m merging and take a gander at my blind spot, there’s a Jeep, revving to overtake me lest I converge in the left lane without slamming on my brakes and veering into the shoulder. Walk into any parking lot, and you’ll see a Jeep spilling over the yellow line, its bulk blocking the full natural swing of a driver’s side door. A vehicle crosses two lanes of traffic with nary a blink-blink to throttle past a school bus on the right, and oh yeah, it’s a Jeep.
Whether its a boxy Wrangler or an elephantine Cherokee, I always elude the beasts when they come barreling into my rearview mirror. Jeeps invariably ride your ass, to the point where I suspect it’s something innate to the vehicular engineering of a Jeep, or perhaps the type of human who would purchase a Jeep. I understand but don’t condone nor practice tailgating as a tactic to hint to the driver in front of you that they should either up their speed or get out of the way, but when you’re in stop-and-go traffic in a line of 1000 cars, tailgating becomes less a means of prodding traffic forward and more a sociopathic way to vent your own frustrations and inadequacies.
I’m not a particularly slow driver. Being very attentive, I feel safe staying between 5-15mph above the posted speed limit, depending on the area or conditions, which seems pretty normal. So it pisses me off when I’m cruising 45 in a 35 mph zone and some guy starts to tailgate me. Sometimes, I’ll intentionally toy with tailgaters by slowing to the speed limit, as if to say “Hey, it could be worse. I’m already breaking the law… live with it!” But I must admit, I never do this to a Jeep. I don’t fuck with Jeeps.
As I get older, I’m beginning to see rudeness as a sort of feckless fearlessness as opposed to an inevitable reaction to the societal friction against which we all must brush. To contain rudeness in the face of incompetence, ignorance, or inability is an admirable treat, not shirking meekness or apathy. I want to be one of those happy-go-lucky types, who whether following an old lady going 20 mpg in a 45 zone or dealing with an aggressive Jeep Wagoner stuck on her bumper, just lets it slid out of her mind, down her back, a vanished realization in the quest to commute safely to and fro.
