Definitely, Is an SUV

Now that it’s a new year, Fridays I’ll still post something that is (supposed to be) humorous. These posts are furthermore still tagged “Friday Fun,” even though I’m no longer including the “Friday Fun” tag in the subject.

There’s a game I play sometimes while I’m driving, called “SUV, Not SUV.” Because I bet there’s some sound, psychological explanation why people who drive SUV’s are more likely to be assholes behind the wheel.

The rules of the game are pretty straightforward: whenever another vehicle cuts you off, you say “SUV” if it was an SUV, or “Not SUV,” if it wasn’t. Then you count how many of each you got and marvel at how many Not-SUV’s there were.

I have a dream, in which millions of people start posting messages like “1 #SUV, 3 #NotSUV” on Twitter. I’m such a geek.

Of course, even in a game as simple and straightforward as this, there are edge-cases. The rule is that “cut off” means that the other vehicle pulled in front of you, or threatened to do so, in such a way that you had to apply your breaks or swerve to avoid a collision. And it only counts if you yourself were not breaking traffic laws at the time, like running a red light, or going 50 in a 25-mile-an-hour zone. And you can only blame the other driver if he’s really doing something that he could be cited for, were there an accident.

Let’s practice:

You’re rolling down the street at about the speed limit when a teenager in a shiny, red sports car comes out of a side-road without even slowing down at the stop sign. You slam on your breaks just in time to avoid becoming a permanent fixture in his driver’s side door. Answer: Not SUV. (Okay, that was an easy one.)
You’re in the right lane on the highway, traveling at the speed limit, when a big, black Hummer enters the traffic flow several hundred yards in front of you, putting along at 10 MPH less than the speed limit. You’re forced to choose between changing lanes to pass him and dropping back to putt-putt speed yourself. My, how frustrating! Answer: Just change lanes and pass him, you twerp. And if there’s so much traffic that you can’t change lanes, maybe you should take that as a clue as to why the traffic is so slow. (One more.)
You’re driving on the 55 MPH highway at 95, when a pickup truck moves into your lane in front of you in order to pass the car in front of him. You swerve out of the way, thanking your lucky stars that you didn’t cut off someone else in the process. Answer: Don’t you know that your car makes an actual splat sound when you run into something going that speed? Take a deep breath and slow down; you’ll live longer. Of course, if you had been traveling at a reasonable speed, it would have been Not SUV, because a pickup truck is not an SUV.

Now we’re ready to play for real.

I was driving the car a couple weeks ago, my Firstborn in the passenger’s seat. This was after an appointment she had with a doctor at Mass General Hospital, and we were exiting the Fruit Street garage. In case you don’t know it, you exit the garage, out across a crosswalk, and then make a left turn onto a a one-way street. As you make this turn, just to your right, traffic comes around a blind corner, but sufficiently slowly that there’s still plenty of time to react.

This particular day, as we exited the garage, a dozen pedestrians or so decided to cross in front of us, in groups of 1 to 3 people each. That was okay, though. I don’t mind waiting. Especially in this case, because there was also some traffic out on the road, which I also had to wait for. After a minute, the crosswalk was clear; the roadway was clear; there was no one coming. I put my standard transmission into first gear, took one last look, and pulled out.

All at once–the whole thing couldn’t have taken more than a second or two–I saw a flash of black automobile out on the road, and I instinctively slammed on my breaks. A black SUV came to a stop in front of us, and a woman stared, dismayed, back at us, from her perch in its driver’s seat.

It was a good thing that my brain, through many years of driving experience, has been wired to respond that way. It was a good thing I stopped, because she wasn’t able to. And I guess I was lucky that we were not stuck in traffic out on the road, or else she would have plowed right into us.

I shouted, “Why don’t you drive a little faster, Lady?!”

She sat nonplussed for a moment, her mouth agape. Then shouted back, “Wha– I wasn’t going fast!” And she zoomed off in a huff. Proving that alpha-male behavior is not, as was previous thought, limited strictly to baboons and bull walruses.

Now, I don’t know what your definition of “too fast” is, but my guess is that if you couldn’t safely avoid hitting another car in the middle of the road, that would probably be included.

After I cooled down, I could understand where she was coming from. After all, from her perspective, if I had pulled out without looking, that would have been much better than her being wrong.

She managed to cut off at least one other car before I lost sight of her in the distance.

But before she did, I yelled at her back bumper, “SUV! Oh, yes. Definitely, is an SUV!” So, take that!

-TimK