Road Rage is Hereditary
I spent Mardi Gras weekend down in New Orleans with the parents, and I came to a conclusion. As I watched my father curse, flip the finger and use his massive truck as a weapon, I realized that road rage must be hereditary.
The similarities are astounding. The same reactions to the same situations; someone pulls out in front of you, he's an asshole. Someone driving slow in the fast lane; He's a F$##@$#@ idiot. Someone hits the brakes for no reason; well, that's an excuse to run up on his bumper and flash your lights while over-revving your engine.
But the biggest surprise was how absolutely hysterical I found his tirades. The hypocrisy is not lost on me; if I'm driving, it's a big deal to me, too. But as a passenger, it makes for some pretty good entertainment.
The similarities are astounding. The same reactions to the same situations; someone pulls out in front of you, he's an asshole. Someone driving slow in the fast lane; He's a F$##@$#@ idiot. Someone hits the brakes for no reason; well, that's an excuse to run up on his bumper and flash your lights while over-revving your engine.
But the biggest surprise was how absolutely hysterical I found his tirades. The hypocrisy is not lost on me; if I'm driving, it's a big deal to me, too. But as a passenger, it makes for some pretty good entertainment.
posted by Kristie at 11:09 AM
2 Comments:
Definitely genetic. Apparently my husband is related to your dad, too. Ha!
Asi asi y tu'. Yes rage is hereditary but I find myself laying on my horn and waving a fist in the air all the while shouting explatives much more in New Jersey than I do here.
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