I'm on A Highway to Hell

Today's topic of discussion.  Bad Driving on base.

This was the original topic of discussion I wanted to delve into last night but after all the drama involving the yard sale site, I decided to place it on the back burner and return to it today. After all, if there's one thing that shows some of the insanity on this base, it would definitely be how people conduct themselves in a moving vehicle.

Let me start with a disclaimer: This blog doesn't pertain to everyone on base. I might make a generalized statement regarding something but there are always exceptions. So, when I say drivers on this base are crazy, it doesn't mean every single person on this base drives nuts. Just a majority. While I thought this was understood, it became apparent that it wasn't when several people took offense to my posts about shithead kids and overzealous consultants on base. Although, 9 times out of 10, if you get pissed off about something I say and take it as offensive, it probably relates to you, hence why it struck a chord with you. For once, get your big girl panties out of a bind and  take a huge chill pill. 

So with that disclaimer out of the way, lets continue.

This is a very large base that covers a large amount of land expanse but in comparison, has very little road ways. There are three major lanes of traffic that takes one off this base and a small network of streets that wind through the housing areas and the main areas of the base. There are no major highways or interstates that run through the base and last time I checked this was not Germany and there was no Autobahn here. But it sure seems as if some of you believe that the Indy 500 takes place within the confines of this base. Everyone is in such a hurry to get to one place or another on a base that honestly has absolutely nothing worth rushing to in the first damn place.

No other place on base displays this behavior more than the parking lot that contains the commissary and Starbucks. During business hours, when it comes to the rules of the road, all bets are off. Some of you bitches act like Starbucks is about to sell the last cup of coffee available and if you don't get there in warp speed, you'll miss out. You fly through the parking lot at break neck speeds that would make even Dale Earnhardt Jr's head spin. You zip through lanes of parked cars in the wrong direction because everyone knows the 5 extra seconds it would have taken to drive to the next lane of parked cars to travel the correct direction could possibly come between you and your Venti Caramel Machiatto with a double pump of Caramel. Come on people – it's a cup of overpriced coffee, the world is not about to come to an end. That cup of crap will taste just as good even if it takes you an addition 2 minutes to drive like you have even a lick of sense. 

Unfortunately, the dipshit driving is not just limited to the commissary parking lot, however much I wish it was. The shoppette seems to have its fair share of idiots behind the wheel as well. Something about people with the IQ of a turnip driving a piece of machinery that weighs about 2 tons scares the shit out of me.

Trust story here – recently I made a trip to the shoppette. Most of you should be familiar with the way the parking lot is arranged but just in case (as I know there are some readers not associated with Edwards) I'll describe it. You basically have two strip mall sized buildings with a parking lot in front with three entrances/exits from the street in front, one on each side of two strips and one directly in the middle. Now, this is not a hard concept for most people who have been driving for any amount of time to comprehend – if you're pulling OUT of the shoppette, you would use the right hand side of the drive – if your pulling INTO the shoppette, you're gonna drive on the left hand side of the drive. Basic driving 101 – same as any highway or roadway that handles two way directional traffic, right? NOPE – not on this base.

I had pulled up to the stop sign and came to a complete stop waiting to pull onto Kincheloe with a car coming in my direction to my left. A military member (in a flight jumpsuit so possibly a pilot or aircraft maintainer?) driving in a nice shiny sports car decided he was entitled to the ENTIRE drive and turned wide into the right hand side of the drive, stopping his car literally inches from the front bumper of mine. What does this idiot decide to do? He proceeds to curse me out, giving me the finger in the process, backs up and speeds past me. At least now he was in the correct lane. Let me get this right dude in your shinny Beemer – you can't comprehend the fundamentals of driving and you want to spew verbal diarrhea in my direction for your incompetence? All things considered, he must have been an officer – always blaming others for his own fuckups. (Crap, now I just pissed off the officer wives – I'm sure command will here about this one.) Ooh, okay, in his defense, maybe he just got back from some great foreign destination where driving on the opposite side of the road is the norm – but somehow I doubt it- but I will throw it out there to play the devil's advocate to appease the officer wives. 

This Driver must have been from Edwards

Hey, this is off topic but what the hell – Do you know the difference between a porcupine and a BMW?

Give up?

On a porcupine the pricks are on the outside.

When we're ripping up the roads like Justin Bieber does the LA Highways, accidents are bound to happen. Luckily, I have avoided having some dipshit run into me, but I've had a few pretty close calls. Going back to the parking lot at the commissary – I cannot count the times that I have begun backing out of a parking spot, looking behind me to make sure no oncoming traffic is driving up the line of cars, only to have someone fly past me moving the opposite direction. Makes me wonder how many actual accidents occur on base on a regular basis. Lets put it this way people – if the speed limit on most of the base is 25-35MPH then it's probably a fairly safe bet that the speed limit through the parking lots is going to be considerably lower. Point is – slow the fuck down – because the day one of you lead foot bitches runs into my car that I'm still making payments on – I will jump out and most likely will proceed to flop around on the ground, holding my neck and back, screaming in “pain” as if I'm giving birth to a baby elephant, hire the best accident lawyer I can find and I'll be enjoying some overpriced coffee drink in some exotic country by the ocean while you're lucky to get a cup of the free coffee at the commissary. 

Until Next Time...