Hiya, jerk in the white Land Rover?
First, you are aware that your car looks like a small ambulance aren’t you and that if they smacked any other logo on it, say a Saturn logo or a Ford logo, that you’d think it to be quite an unattractive, oddly shaped hunk of metal?
Second, you’re not a bad-looking business-suited 30-something man.
Can I ask? What is it you plan to do with the 3.5 seconds of time that you saved by careening around me at the merge instead of waiting your turn, thereby almost clipping my front end when you cut unexpectedly in front of me causing me to slam on my brakes and causing the other drivers in line to shake their heads at your asshattedness?
Will you pick your nose with those 3.5 seconds? Run your fingers through your hair? Adjust your donkey omelets? Change your radio station? Take a swig of coffee?
Or maybe you were planning to accumulate these little tiny chunks of saved time and do something really great with them at the end of the year, something like paying a bill or downloading some porn. Or curing cancer maybe?
It is jerks like you and your I’m more important because I have this here higher-priced conveyance and my time is more precious than your time and therefore it’s perfectly fine for me to cut in front of you and go about my merry way until such a time as I’ve accumulated the necessary hours to maybe look in the mirror and realize that I’m a pretentious prick, that make me question the veracity of this report.
And I’ll question the veracity of that report again on my way home when I watch some poor clueless soul put their blinker on while sitting on the Parkway East, thinking that someone will let them change lanes, but they don’t realize that doing so would mean that THAT particular pretentious prick would lose out on his own saved 3.5 seconds of time.
You know what PittGirl does? When I see a blinker, I let them in with a wave and a smile. Gasp! And the look of gratitude on their faces at such unexpected kindness is well worth those lost 3.5 seconds of time that I could have used to kick an additional pigeon.
Quit being a jerk and no, that hot chick in the car behind you that held up her super hot cell phone to snap a picture of you was NOT me.