As a decidedly urban motorist who is forbidden by law to use a hand held device (cell phone) while driving I am becoming increasingly pissed off at other drivers who have no idea what they are doing and where they are on the road but insist on using PED’s (GPS’s). Geographically they are freakin’ idiots. I live in a city where most of the streets are numbered so if one has even a rudimentary knowledge of math they can determine their present location and how to arrive at a future location with a minimal amount of numerical exercise and trouble.
This afternoon I was motoring down such a numbered street when I noticed a car coming straight at me. The driver of the oncoming auto was not looking at the road; he was preoccupied by his GPS which was attached to his windshield slightly above his right hand shoulder. I slowed and beeped. Nothing. The auto was now thisclose to me. I swerved to the right and slammed on my brakes.
The offending motorist looked ahead and swerved in the opposite direction side-swiping a parked car. I exited my vehicle and inquired as to the health of the Asian gent who was sitting catatonic like in the driver seat with a strangle hold on the steering wheel.
He finally glared in my direction and accused me of causing the fender bender. I told him I would summon the local gendarmes and we would clear up this unfortunate situation post haste. This was going to be an amusing event.
I dialed 911 with the particulars and then inquired of a woman sweeping her walk as to whom the damaged parked car belonged to. She pointed to a house two doors down and then asked me if it was HIM again. Pardon me??
She said that HE lived down the street and this was the third time he had hit a parked car. She said she was driving for over 65 years and had only one accident during her tenure behind the wheel. I asked her what HIS name was and she said “We call him Mr. Oops.”
I walked down to the house where the owner of the victimized auto lived, rang the bell and waited. A middle aged woman opened the door and I informed her of the situation. She stepped out onto her front lawn path and let loose with a string of words she isn’t supposed to know. She then announced in a rather loud voice that she was going to…uh…amputate the HIS reproductive organ.
This was the second time HE had unsolicited vehicular intercourse with her mini-van.
I told her the police were on the way but she didn’t seem to comprehend. Off she went to Mr. Oops’s car and banged on the window.
Mr. Oops stared at his GPS tapping it ever so lightly with his index finger. He was oblivious to the knocking on his window and blue verbiage being addressed to him.
I tried to calm Mrs. Mini-van but it wasn’t working.
Mr. Oops rotated his head about 115 degrees to the left and pointed to me, “His fault his fault his fault” he announced. Mrs. M swiveled her head and gave me a confused look. I put my right arm and hand to use and with a rather exaggerated motion similar to one used to cast a fly fishing rod toward a pool of waiting dinner trout pointed my index finger to skid marks my Goodyears left on the road.
Just then the cops pulled up.
To make a long story short Mr. Oops tried to assign the accidents blame on me and I again casted my finger to the skid marks and the women re-told their stories of previous incidents.
Insurance cards and other numbered info was exchanged to everyone’s satisfaction and the cops advised Mr. Oops to remove his GPS for the sake of health of neighborhood cars. One of the officers walked away with a ‘you’ve got to be kidding me’ look on his face. He told me Mr. Oops told him the GPS was the culprit of the accident because it didn’t have a picture of the parked car on the screen. How was he supposed to know it was there?
I asked the cop if GPS’s were the cause of many accidents. His answer surprised me: three out of ten accidents were caused by drivers looking at the GPS instead of the road.
As I turned to leave I saw Mrs. Mini-van examining her scraped driver side door and broken rear view mirror. She had a Newport hanging from her lips and as Mr. Oops drove by she flipped the smoldering butt at his car and referred to him in a not so nice ethnic term.