- Paul Davidson
I’m Unknowingly Going To Leave My Left Blinker On
Click clack, click clack, click clack.
I am driving down the 405 here in Los Angeles. I have been on the 405 for about fifteen minutes already. About fifteen minutes ago I turned left from a main street onto the freeway entrance and I used my blinker. It is fifteen minutes later, now.
And unbeknownst to me, but beknownst to everyone else around me, especially the guy behind me and the people in the two lanes behind me on either side who are waiting to move into my lane but are unsure if it is safe to do so — my left blinker is still on.
When I first got my license I remember being filled with rage at people who were in the mostest leftest lane of the freeway with their left blinker on. How could they do this to me? What were they thinking? Couldn’t they hear the clickety-clack, clickety-clack of their blinker? Were they deaf? Were they old? Were they doing it just to frustrate me?
And now (as previously unbeknownst to me during the third paragraph above where I was knowingly relaying a story from a point in my life when I was unbeknowing the fact that my left blinker was on) I am the guy with the left blinker on and I am driving a slew of American and non-American (visiting) citizens crazy because they don’t know if I plan on slamming left into the guardrail, swerving right into the lane next to me, continuing on for miles like this or about to collapse on the steering wheel as there is a portion of a 2 pound burrito stuck in my throat.
The possibilities are endless.
There are times when I suddenly realize my blinker is on. I don’t know if I’m daydreaming or concentrating on music that has a similar 4/4 beat like my blinker. I’m not sure if as one adds years to their driving career that a portion of the ear suddenly stops recognizing the sound. I’m not sure why I care.
But I do.