Gay Bay Commute

I'm usually tranced out to trip-hop or NPR on the way to work in the morning, but occasionally I'm jolted to attention by minor distractions like gators or smokey bears. These don't make me angry, just surprised or slightly annoyed. In fact, on the scale of frustrating, non-accident driving experiences (where 1 is a speed limit reduction from 75 to 70, and 10 is getting severely cut off by an H2 blasting eurobeats and driven by a dude with a shaved head, Armani sunglasses, and a hot wife, and then when you try to stare him down, he just laughs at you and gives you the finger), I'd only rate these as a 2.

It's common knowledge that over 50% of frustrating driving experiences are caused by people over the age of 60. To their credit, the severity of their infractions usually rates in the 1-6 range; it's rare to find a 80 year old tailing you 2 yards at 80 mph and flashing their lights (probably a 7.5), but you frequently find that they forget to use their blinker before an abrupt turn or lane change, or if they do, they leave it on for three minutes too long (both about a 2). You could write all this off as the unintentional side effect of a decaying mind that lacks the benefit of years of rigorous childhood training on a Nintendo console, but I'm inclined to think there's something a bit more insidious at work.

There's one "move" - not exclusive to this demograhpic, but certainly perfected by it - that I had the distinct displeasure of experiencing this morning. It's called "the hand", and seniors tend to pull this one out in a clutch situation, when they feel their car's personal space is in imminent danger of being violated. In its simplest form, the hand extends from the open window of the car, palm open, as if to hold back the offending vehicle, and then retracts seconds later when the perceived danger has passed. Convention dictates that the person giving the hand not look in the direction of the offender, as if to say "the hand has got this situation under control". It's offensive because it's presumptuous, dismissive, and unlike a car horn, it can be used directionally. I'd rate this at about a 7, but it largely depends on the make of the vehicle and the demeanor of the driver. If they're wearing those wrap-around old-person sunglasses while driving an Oldsmobile, it can easily jump to an 8.5.

The variation I witnessed today was unexpected, and very likely unprecedented. I'm driving in the fast lane, going about 55, and I'm maybe 10 car lengths behind this Toyota truck. Not even close. We come up on a patch of traffic near Serramonte, and the truck in front of me starts to slow down, and I, in turn follow (I'll acknowledge, not as quickly as they did). Now, without getting within even 5 car lengths of the truck, I see a hand extend, but I can't be sure that it's THE hand yet. Doubt quickly fades as I see the palm rotate to face me. At this point, I know I'm receiving the hand, and I don't like it. Discomfort turns to shock, then to rage, as the hand begins a looping motion toward my car, as if to push my car back with a kind of sweet caress. It was like the hand was instructing me as to how I might massage the brakes of my car, so as to come to a stop befitting of the vehicle in front of me. Not only did the hand instruct me not to do something, it told me HOW not to do it, as if I can't figure it out for myself. Completely unacceptable.

I never even came close to braking hard. The driver had gray hair about my length, and I still haven't decided if it was a man or a woman. It doesn't matter. It pissed me off. 9.