I live at the end of a five and a half minute hallway. Wait, that’s a song by Poe. What I meant to say was I live at the end of a long stretch of neighborhoods. There is only one way in and one way out. That fact used to bother me but I can’t think of any reason why I would need to escape in my car some other way. It just feels like a long drive sometimes. Mostly because the speed limit is 25. And mostly because people insist on driving in my back seat!
Why do people do that? I know it’s not because of Velma (my Volkswagen Routan). Most people don’t even know VW has minivans and even if they did they probably don’t know there is enough storage space in the back for me to stack three bodies to dump in the Bay without anyone knowing. Not that I would do that, but I could. I’m just saying . . .
Anyway, got a little sidetracked there didn’t I? I know it’s not because of Velma that people want to crawl into my backseat because they wanted to do that when I drove my last minivan too. I think it’s because the street is a psychological mind game.
When I drive out of my neighborhood sometimes I’m in a hurry because I left too late and I know it takes five minutes to get up the street. Slight exaggeration. But even then I have never seen the benefit of tailgating. My goal is to drive my own vehicle and not push someone else out onto the main road. Call me crazy but that’s just how I drive. When I turn onto that long street to go home I relax into it. The speed limit is 25 so why rush?
But that is not how the other motorists feel about it. They see that long road stretch out into oblivion and it scares them. Then they see the sign stating No Outlet and they really freak out. The instinct is to speed through it. When you’re on the road to nowhere you must get to nowhere as fast as possible.
Another observation I have made is that the closer the neighborhood the motorist turns into the closer they drive to me. It’s as if people believe this street leads to the seventh circle of hell. Their bumper kisses my bumper and suddenly they are squealing around the corner into the second neighborhood entrance. I can hear their mind’s audible sigh, “Finally! I made it! Now I can watch soap operas and eat Funyuns.” To that I salute them.
What crazy phenomena have you noticed?