Day 93 - Sideswiped

My mom once told me a story of a relative who was scared to death of driving on Houston highways. (This is somewhat understandable since Houston highways are the paved playgrounds for drivers that attended the schools of Mad Max, Cannonball Run and Fast and Furious.) My relative would enter the freeway, be too scared to get over and have to take the very next exit. And on and on it went with nary a few seconds of highway time clocked in.

I grew up driving in Houston, so this type of speed- and gymnastics-based driving is second nature to me. Taking it slow? That's just a ticket to accident land. 

So when I moved to Austin, I immediately realized that the cultural differences between the cities spanned further than music and arts. Austin drives ... sssssllllloooooowwwww. You can imagine the frustration level for a hardcore speed demon. If you sifted through negatives from Austin traffic cameras, I'm sure you'd find more than one picture of me red faced, fist thumping and (my forte) cursing (Yes, it's a picture but you could read my lips. I wouldn't be saying, "Thanks for the lovely invitation to take tea with you Thursday next.")

So it came as a surprise to me that, while driving from Austin to Houston today, I nearly got sideswiped twice. Both were trucks doing the classic traffic weave - a desperate search for the fastest lane which often means crossing across lanes with little or no regard or cutting off other cars while trying to get ahead of them (or others.) This usually yields them one or two car lengths ahead of where they were before and they initiate a new cycle by riding the car's bumper in front of them until a new slot opens.  But - almost sideswiped twice? WTF? It's Thursday at 3 pm. What's the frickin' hurry?

Then it hit me: Maybe I finally am the Austin driver - Going a little slower, rolling down the window and listening to The Low Lows or Nervous Turkey (for the record, I'm not even a cool enough Austinite to really know the bands well. Chide away!) Has my automotive DNA been forever altered? Have I exorcised the speed demon? Purged myself of the Houston habits?

Worried, I checked my mileage. I was going 85 mph. Oh thank goodness. They were just a**holes.