I Can Keep You From Passing Me By
November 23rd, 2005
I like driving home for the holidays for two reasons.
First, it’s a bittersweet reunion for family members to catch up, spread cheer, embrace and celebrate all that is love and affection.
Secondly, it gives me the opportunity to make sure that while on the long drive home, I keep as many tailgaters from passing me by in a game I like to call, “No, I’m not the asshole, you’re the asshole, so don’t even try to pass me cause I’m not going to let you — I’ll just slow down until you try to move into the other lane then move into that other lane to keep you from ever making any progress and making it home to your family this holiday season.”
Yeah, it’s a little wordy but… I can keep you from passing me by.
The highway, it seems, is just a very normal extension of other “you can’t pass me by” situations in everyday life. From the “I can keep you from passing me by in this line“ to the “I can keep you from passing me by in our biology class from a grading curve standpoint” to “I can keep you from passing me by and not saying anything cause you obviously want to teach me some kind of ‘I’m not speaking to you cause you’re not as good as I am’ lesson” — people are always trying to keep someone else from passing them by in a variety of places, situations and scenarios.
But the road? Oh, the road is like a game. And I am reeeeaaaallly good at it.
I’ll admit this: people who drive as my co-pilot in any longterm driving trip often get frustrated with my games. In addition to the main game I’m discussing here, I am also quite adept at the following driving games:
- If your blinker keeps blinking even though you’re not moving, I’m goign to tailgate you.
- My windows are down and my music is loud, so I’ll force you to listen to it.
- You think I’m turning left from this left turn lane, but I think I’ll go straight.
- Sure, try to cross this busy lane of traffic with your shopping cart — see if you can beat me.
- Look at me, and my bare butt, through my backseat window.
- I can siphon gas from your car while you’re going to the Denny’s bathroom.
But the “I can keep you from passing me by” game is my favorite of them all.
Know this: I only enact the game, in the first place, because you are obviously in a rush. Because you have begun to tailgate me in an attempt to force your way ahead. Your are impatient and you are blatant about your impatience and you are willing to risk all that you hold dear to you (your front bumper) in order to make your case.
And I will do all I can to ruin your day.
It’s like a game of chicken. It’s like a dogfight in the skies of WWII. It’s like a scenario that can border on my fatal destruction if I end up picking the wrong car to keep from passing me by. If you’re a soccer mom in a big SUV, I’m confident I can take you if the game results in a shoulder-of-the-road-melee. If you’re a sinister looking gang banger, I’m probably going to crap my pants. But more often than not, I can usually keep you from passing me by, look the other way so our eyes don’t lock when push comes to shove, and feel more important than I have in the last 200 miles of any trip.
That’s because I am soooo good.
And herein lies the disclaimer, people. As most of you will be traveling over the next few days to see family and friends via plane, train and automobile (*“No, that isn’t a pillow.”) I would like to ask one very important favor.
If you happen to be tailgating me, and I happen to do this to you… be more soccer-mom than gang-banger, cause Thanksgiving pictures don’t look all that great when I’ve got a black eye.
—
In other news, although WFME will be abroad the next few days we will, as usual, continue our regular posting schedule. We will also be eating turkey and will also be sure to say something like “this is the most tender turkey I’ve ever had in my entire life” because, well, you have to say that or Soccer Mom will give you a black eye.
You also might want to try this line: “This stuffing is so fluffy and delicious! And… is that sage I taste?”
As part of your “not letting you pass me by” game, do you also play the “If you tailgate me, I’m going to ride the brakes” game? That’s fun, too.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Comment by jenny — November 23, 2005 @ 8:12 am
When you [Americans] say holidays I keep thinking you mean Christmas. You are confusing me with your pseudo-holidays that don’t really exist.
You let fireworks of early, on the 4th of July, when you should be letting them off on Hallowe’en. Then you eat turkey on Thanksgiving when you should be eating it at Christmas. What do you do at Christmas, eat Easter Eggs?
Comment by Pierce — November 23, 2005 @ 8:27 am
Pierce, come one, everyone knows most of Los Angeles eats Chinese food at Christmas.
Comment by Hilary — November 23, 2005 @ 8:55 am
Pauly -
1. We like the same games! I also like the “tap my brakes because you’re tailgating me and didn’t give me a chance to get over yet, you stupid F*cking piece of crap” game. I will probably be playing that one in a few minutes, when I begin my trek up north.
2. You don’t have enough entries under the “assholes” section, but the fact that you have an assholes category made me laugh.
3. It’s snowing!
4. Happy Thanksgiving!
Comment by Flower Girl — November 23, 2005 @ 8:57 am
I got your book the other day, it is so funny! Kept me very entertained while I had the flu. Have a safe trip!
Comment by kristin — November 23, 2005 @ 9:05 am
Hilary - If it didn’t feature in “L.A. Story”, then it probably passed me by.
Comment by Pierce — November 23, 2005 @ 9:13 am
Funny!
But it’s kind of dangerous to play that game in Detroit. Get your ass shot.
Comment by Laurie — November 23, 2005 @ 9:16 am
i like to play that game WHILE EATING LICORICE!!
Comment by kristine — November 23, 2005 @ 9:59 am
funny. and unfortunately true. people play some dangerous ego games out on the highway!
Comment by C(h)ristine — November 23, 2005 @ 10:09 am
Now that’s what I call Holiday Spirit!
Comment by nic — November 23, 2005 @ 10:10 am
it’s not about ego; it’s about principle! the world is lucky to have people like that to keep ‘em in line.
Comment by kristine — November 23, 2005 @ 10:14 am
I play many of those similar games, but I’ve been calling it “Bitch, Get Out of My Way Because I Drive Faster Than Your Slow Ass.”
Kristine — you live in New York, most of which is in perpetual gridlock. How can anyone pass anyone there, and, more importantly, how are you so talented that you can drive and eat licorice at the same time?
Comment by Keith — November 23, 2005 @ 10:46 am
wouldn’t YOU like to know, keith!
Comment by kristine — November 23, 2005 @ 11:07 am
If you pass me by be warned, my spinning rims will cause you to go into a hypnotic trance. When you wake up you’ll be more sorry that you could imagine. Pass with care!
Comment by monkeyinabox — November 23, 2005 @ 12:03 pm
Ooh, spinning rims. Those are the gayest car acoutrament ever, in the history of automotive anything.
As for your game, Keith, love the name.
Comment by Pauly D — November 23, 2005 @ 12:11 pm
Where I live there’s a lot of dust and dirt on the roads so when I’m being tailgated by someone in a great big hurry I like to drive off the road a teeny bit, just enough to kick up dust, pebbles and hopefully rocks to spray on the tailgating asshole’s vehicle. When they back way off it’s such a rush!
Comment by Rachel — November 23, 2005 @ 12:48 pm
I’m also a big fan of “Why the hell did you just tailgate me to get me to change lanes so you can pass and then you slow down in front of me after I let you pass?” game.
Comment by Nanette — November 23, 2005 @ 4:34 pm
Turkey Day recipe for Tailgaters
(for use on 2-lane highways only):
1. wait til someone is tailgating you
2. slowly ease off gas until spedometer hugs the 55mph line and you are side-by-side with a slow-moving semi truck
3. hold this pace for - oh, 5-6 miles (give or take).
4. lull tailgater into a subdued stupor, then…
5. speed up suddenly and without warning to 90 mph!
6. allow tailgater to glimpse many passing opportunities before he can catch up to you at the next convoy of slow moving semi-trucks
7. repeat.
Comment by Fabe — November 23, 2005 @ 7:43 pm
I sort of disagree, Fabe.
I think you only hold the pace for 3-4.5 miles, then after lulling them into a stupor, you HIT THE BRAKES as hard as you can.
Just have good insurance.
Comment by Pauly D — November 23, 2005 @ 7:46 pm
good insurance or “more insurance”?
Comment by Jaclyn — November 23, 2005 @ 9:56 pm
“Look at me, and my bare butt, through my backseat window.”
So that was you? Nice ass.
Comment by Lynn — November 23, 2005 @ 10:03 pm
I have been known to play this game…
But my personal favorite is a game I call “Tag.”
It’s where you see some buttsteak shoot by you and you catch up to them and pass them, preferably on the right. Then you stay in front of them for as long as you like.
Then when they blow by you again - usually furious, throwing the bird (not a turkey, unless they’re especially militant) and/or breaking the law in an attempt to run you off the road, you call the highway patrol and give them the turd’s license number and description.
Oh, I am a bad man…
Comment by Dariush — November 24, 2005 @ 8:15 am
Drivers usually play “you can’t pass me by” after I’ve moved over to the left lane to let them onto the highway. I’m more than happy to get behind them, but then they play “you can’t get back into your lane, sucker.”
Comment by Rabbit — November 24, 2005 @ 6:12 pm
Oh my god you are one of THOSE PEOPLE. Thank goodness I live on the prairie and far far far away from you Calif. people.
I suppose you also use the cell phone and drive too…. you bastard!!! LOL
Comment by I love Mark Darcy — November 24, 2005 @ 9:44 pm