No matter how hard I strive to grow and evolve and radiate love
and be a compassionate member of society, I’m always reminded how much of a
horrible, petty, selfish, vindictive, fucked-up person I really am, each time I
make the evening commute home. Because, FUCKING TRAFFIC. And I’m talking LA
traffic. Is there any other kind?
Rush hour traffic in Los Angeles is
the literal equivalent of the goddamn urban Hunger Games, where you can easily
be the recipient of an AGGRAVATED ASSAULT if you fail to signal before attempting a lane
change. Very zen people lose their shit on the daily in this madness. Remember the movie Falling Down? THAT IS NOT AN EXAGGERATION. In Los Angeles, everyone's life is a slippery slide away from being hit with a 5150. I mean
look at these fools right here. Our traffic is unique, because our drivers are
unique. And by unique, I mean extremely entitled, dangerously stupid, and constantly
full of rage.
My heinous 10 mile commute takes nearly 90 minutes to
complete, and I’d tried everything to maintain my sanity. Books on tape, the smooth jazz station, cursing, deep
meditational breathing, whistling, sobbing, hoodoo. What I really want is to be lovingly
knocked unconscious and wake up happily at home. Is that so wrong? It’s 2014, how is
TELEPORTATION STILL NOT A THING.
After a hard day’s work, all anyone wants to do is get home,
plop on the couch, eat a bowl of Lucky Charms and fall asleep while watching Jude
Judy reruns before one has to get up and relive the
nightmare all over again.
Which is why I give zero fucks if a 70 year old Nana is
puttering her way back from volunteering with the little deaf kids, if it’s
6:42 pm and she doesn’t bust that left before the green light expires, that bitch is going down. And if I don’t
terrorize her by mercilessly riding her bumper like a lunatic for
the next six blocks, there are ten other foaming at the mouth psychotic
motorists who will.
‘CAUSE IT’S GRIMY IN THESE STREETS.
Last month, when I was lamenting to a co-worker about having
reached the status of a bona fide road rager, he was like “Don’t you use
ways?” And I was like the fuck is that?,
thinking he was referring to some website that provided different “ways” to successfully get
away with vehicular homicide. But he actually meant Waze, as in THE most genius,
life-saving app EVER.
Waze is a (free!) navigation AND real-time traffic system,
which means the app will give you alternate routes through this godforsaken
city when the usual, major streets are backed up. (which is always) So instead of losing
your shit while attempting to drive the main fairways and Parking Lots (freeways), Waze will
show you the top three alternative routes home, how long it will take to get
there, navigate you each step of the way, AND alert you in real time if an
accident, traffic jam, or police pursuit suddenly transpires on your route – and it
will reroute you AGAIN (and again) until you make your way home.
And because Los Angeles is a very secretly segregated city,
Waze will take you through areas of the city you never
knew existed. I've driven in Los Angeles for over 20 YEARS, and I'm just now stumbling across neighborhoods that leave me feeling pretty clueless. (Me, using Waze: SO THIS IS
WHERE ALL THE ARMENIAN/EL SALVADORIAN/KOREAN/THAI/SAMOAN/RUSSIAN/LILY WHITE
PEOPLE LIVE.)
That’s right, this shit is even educational.
You will get a speedy field trip through every enclave, back
street, side street, dirt road, crack alley, driveway, the block is hot spot,
and illegal alternative route, as long as it helps get your ass home. I think I dipped across someone’s front lawn just the other night.
Waze don’t give a fuck, and neither do I. That night I got home in about 50 minutes, people. FIFTY. Yeah, I spent ALL of that time zig-zagging through the city, busting
illegal U’s, making California stops, nearly barreled down a one way road and almost mowed a few silly pedestrians, (and yes the app sucks at least 70% of your
battery life) but I MADE IT HOME BEFORE
SUNDOWN.
Just like this crackhead, I am
#WINNING.
