7 Most Annoying Driving Habits of L.A. Men
Nothing to see here. Jerk.
In response to the Informer's own post today on a study showing women are worse drivers than men, the fairer half of this news blog has one thing to say: Science is sexist.
Just because the University of Michigan found that women were overrepresented in crashes "in which one vehicle turned in front of the other, one vehicle side-swiped the other or both vehicles collided head-on," doesn't mean guys aren't bigger assholes on the day-to-day.
Right, ladies?? Especially in L.A. ...
Anyway, because science is sexist, and needs to be shot down via (equally sexist, but very hard-hitting, we promise) anecdotal evidence, here are our best reasons why the douchey male-types of Los Angeles deserve more blame for our traffic problem than the girls, in list form of their most annoying habitry.
7. Tailgating. Seriously, stop. We know our tails are fly, but we're just as stuck in this 405 parking lot as you are, so back the F off. And don't pretend women are just as guilty -- you're so close in the rearview, we can practically see your 5 o'clock shadow. Plus, an agressive driving study conducted by AAA found that 64 percent of men had 'gated, as opposed to 54 percent of women. So ha! We've got science, too.
6. Mooning, or reverse-mooning, the chicks next to you. Road trip! We know you're totally amped from four-door bonding with the bros, but daring each other to show us your paler places is not appreciated, and likely to cause us to crash in a screaming surge of fight-or-flight adreniline. (And then, like science, you'll probably blame it on us.) Your volunteer nakedness is annoying. So annoying. ESPECIALLY when you think flashing your hairy arse/ball-section deserves some kind of return favor. "Show us your tits!" Nope. We didn't start this thing, and we're not going to end it. We're too busy doing girl-road-trip stuff like make out with each other (without you) and talk about how annoying you are.
5. Speeding up the lane line on your motorcycle. Not to say that biker chicks don't exist, but even in this post-feminist mecca we live in, the old-fashioned Harley fags still seem to prevail. Not only is getting passed by a leathery dude on a motorcycle heart-attacking and ear-splitting, it's super dangerous. Don't take this as a threat, but when some soccer mom in an SUV decides she wants to switch to the carpool lane all of a sudden, she's not the one who's going to end up on the pavement.
4. Shooting people. Sorry, this one's sort of morose. But it must be said. The majority of murderers (attempted and successful) are male. And L.A., in particular, has a scary history of car-to-car shootings -- not just gang-related ones. Take a deep breath, boys. Obliterating the meathead ahead of you for front-cutting with no turn signal isn't worth a life sentence. Physical assault: Equally uncool. (Please don't read into the fact that this is No. 4, and not No. 1. We take road murders very seriously around here. Almost as seriously as drive-by paintball shootings.)
3. The other kind of "shooting" -- for gaps. Also known as weaving, stitching, or screwing up everybody else's drive home by leaving a wake of brake lights and hysteria behind you. Fun! With video evidence that it's a source of annoying-ass pride for the neanderthals among us:
2. Holding your phone number, or terrible pickup line, up to the window. We're flattered, or whatever. But this is the awkwardest, lamest, most L.A. way to communicate to a girl that you're digging her shit. So... Let's get this straight. You got some sorta-kinda glimpse of us, through two panes of splattered bug, and could instantly tell we were meant to be? True story, related: One time, in Wilshire traffic, some otherwise respectable-looking man in a business suit got out of his car, knocked on our window and handed us a napkin, reading: "Ur cute." Needless to say, he went home alone (again) that night.
1. Merging at the last second. OK, fine, we do this too. But you probably did it first, A-hole!
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