Bad Driver license plates

I hate LA. I hate everyone here. Well not really. Not all of it or everyone. But I hate driving in it. And I hate everyone who drives in LA, including myself. Because I hate how enraged I get. It’s horrible. This is the season of Lent, and I am terrified at how angry I've been getting on my drives lately.

I just came home from Whole Foods. The place I hate but have to shop at, because they don't sell Kombucha at Trader Joe's. Yet. I was driving out of Whole Foods,when an asshole came out of the side aisle, turned right, directly in front of me. He figured his ego could force me to stop. I didn't. I had to swerve to avoid him, into the left side of the aisle, where people were trying to turn In. The incoming cars honked at me: me who just swerved to avoid “Clifton,” the curly, salt-and pepper haired Volvo-driving moveon.org asshole that turned left heading west on National. If you know him, he drives a charcoal Volvo. And he is a piece of excrement. Maybe you’re x in the process of divorcing him. Good for you.

But it wasn’t good for me. I envisioned myself following him home, pulling him out of the car and smashing his head on the pavement. Really, I saw it in my head. I felt it pulse through the arteries in my scalp. But then I thought of the police sirens, calling my husband, and realizing we didn’t have an attorney.

Only moments before I was in a sleepy residential area, turning left into another sleepy street. There was a geezer in an old car coming my way at 15 miles an hour, so I crossed in front of him. He was a good three houses away. He laid his geriatric elbow on the horn and didn’t let go. Maybe at his age he has no depth perception. In which case, why is he driving?

Early this morning. I was driving north on the 405 through the Sepulveda Pass, heading down toward the connector to the 101. I detest this interchange. I often take surface streets and the canyons to avoid this interchange. The reason being, cars back up on a steep decline, waiting to make the transition. Ah, but not for Cliftons of the world. Not for the Buds and the Chips and the Jennifers commandeering their luxury SUV’s. They cut into the connector lanes a the last minute, believing that their ego will force people to put on the brake. And the other cars do, often causing chain-reaction rear ends behind them, or fantasies of road rage. While the assholes keep driving. To complicate this, there’s also a far right reserved for cars exiting onto Ventura Boulevard before the interchange. Assholes also use this lane to circumventing waiting in line like the “rest of the world.”

This morning I was heading down that incline. I’d heard from the traffic report that the 101 was jammed due to an accident, so I used that far right lane for the purpose for which it was constructed. To exit at Ventura. Suddenly a gold Mercedes came flying up behind me and then began to flash its lights at me. I took my foot off the gas pedal. After all we are heading down a steep incline, it’s 9:45 am and traffic is still heavy. And this guy is an asshole. The guy flashes his lights at me again. I tap my brake. He gets enraged. Flashing flashing. So this time I slam on my brake. He gets so pissed that he takes off in the emergency lane to pass me. When he gets even to me I get a good look: He is probably in his late fifties, early sixties. He has a horrible dye job in his hair, like a Don Ho wig, and wears a baseball cap over it. Sure enough, down at the very last second he jams himself left to head off on the 101 freeway.

Aside from looking at him, I got down his license plate. 4UVQ717. If you know this guy, please tell him he drives like a man with a small penis who can’t accept the fact he is old, and someday he's gonna die. And if he keeps driving like that, a lot sooner than later. Problem is, he might take other drivers with him.

Saturday day Larry and I were walking in Old Town Pasadena to do some shopping. A woman in a BMW came barreling out of a parking structure and through the sidewalk. Where I was walking. I did stop , because I didn’t want to die. I shouted “HELLO!” She ignored me so I hit her car with my hand. Hard. I wished I”d had my keys in my hand, I could have keyed her.

I was shaky and irritable all day. What bothered me more than the drivers was my reaction. Where does all that pent up anger and frustration come from? Sure it’s justified. No one wants to be mowed down in a sidewalk because some pedigreed Pasadena beeotch was too anxious to get her Crate and Barrel crap home, to bother to brake at a sidewalk. We all hate seeing people take advantage and cut others off. It’s this rude asshole behavior. Everyone is getting mean and meaner. And there’s no one to stop them. We have no more moral code, no real sense of ethics or what’s appropriate anymore. At least, not in LA.

The only thing I can think of doing is to start collecting their license plates and publish them online. That would be a great blog: asshole drivers and their license plate numbers.

So here's the first one:

Newer model Gold Mercedes 4UQV717
Driver has horrible black hair dye job