Offensive Driving

I've long since gotten used to the absurd drivers here in Austin.

I'd like to say that means that I've gotten over my general murderous road rage reactions, but that's not the case. I'm working on it. What it does mean, however, is that I've learned to be wary, both as a driver and a runner. If someone is turning right out of a driveway, I've come to accept the fact that they simply will not look to their right. Unless I get eye contact, I'm not getting in front of your Mercedes. I know better.

Normally, I let this nonsense go. I don't understand why someone drives ten miles per hour under the speed limit for no apparent reason, but generally, I leave myself enough time and I don't have a problem. I shake my fist at the driving school on my eight mile course, and that becomes enough revenge on the system for me. Today, I didn't run my eight mile course. I ran a brand new nine mile course. And I found a different driving school. And that was what made me really angry.

Funny Bone Defensive Driving. Really? That's the name of your driving school? That explains a lot.

You see, in Texas, there exists some provision of driving law where, should you get a ticket of some sort, you can attend a defensive driving class instead of paying your fine. Assuming you don't then go out and get yourself another ticket, this course will remove the first offense from your record. How nice of Texas.

I would hope that this benefit would be enough to get people to the class, but evidently not. Evidently it's going to be a fun time for everyone. I thought this was an odd isolated incidence, but, I kid you not, half a mile down the road, I saw a sign for another defensive driving. Happy Time Defensive Driving. I mean, come on. If this is how seriously we're taking the situation that is Austin driving, we're not really doing our job. And just when I was getting really angry, life decided I should get over it.

I crossed a road and actually had someone wait patiently for me to cross the driveway before pulling out. I waved a thank you, and realized it was a dear friend of mine. Moment of anger past.

Still, I stand by what I say. Let's take this thing seriously. Hang up your phones, look both ways, stay in your lane, drive the speed limit, and let's all get where we're going safely, happily, and a heck of a lot more quickly.

And if you let me cross the road, I promise to wave a thank you.

Tuesday's Workout:
72 Degrees
8.98 Miles