Tango of the Road Rage Drivers VIII

Living on Long Island is to tango with notorious drivers, but the country bumpkin roads are no longer full of peace and quiet. I don't miss the days of waltzing with the crazies along Jericho and Hempstead Turnpike, but speed demons burn rubber across the Palisades Parkway, chasing my bumper. Sunrise Highway and Merrick Road beat to the rhythm of rush hour with high beams flashing and horns blaring, but they are nothing compared to Laroe Road, a long stretch of road that has claimed many lives. And I have longed to leave this dance behind, but lately, I seem to step in tune to those bent on driving their way along a small, narrow lane known as Route 6. And all I want to do is to go home.

Driving to work has its moments especially if I dare take this route during the bad weather. The smart choice would be to slow down and take it easy, but not everyone received that memo. And they hit the gas, taking off down a broken road, and spin out of control, slamming into a concrete divider, and you come up over the hill to see a car facing your direction in your lane. And you curse under your breath as you struggle to pass them without hitting another car because nobody slows down on this road unless they see an accident or a cop.

But it's the ride home that is always fun. There's no problem merging onto the Palisades unless it's in the heart of rush hour, and then you get people behind you going crazy because you're waiting for an opening space between the onslaught of cars speeding by. But who cares if you're road kill as long as they can merge and go, but I still take my time. And then it's clear blue skies until I reach the bookstore, my cue to hop into the next lane to get onto Route 6, but some drivers just won't let you in. They hate being cut off, and you'll wind up somewhere in Bear Mountain, if you can't get over. So, the Long Islander in me comes out to play.

Once Exit 16 comes into view, I merge into the left lane. Sometimes, nobody bothers with me. If they see me going slow, they jump to the right and then to the left, and their partners follow. But every now and then, you get someone bent on moving you or plowing through you, and like a child throwing a tantrum, they flash their lights, honk several thousand times, and even scream out their window. But which one of us looks like a lunatic, and who said we're in a contest to break the speed of light? And as soon as the road splits after the bookstore, they take off like a bat out of hell, and a small part of you hopes to see their car flip over. But then that would cause traffic.

Speaking of which, Route 6 is notorious for constantly being backed up especially around July 4th and Labor Day weekend, and drivers are very anxious to get home. I slow down at the yield sign, approaching the traffic circle, and there will be days, where the drivers behind me won't crawl up my rear. But those days are few, and facial expressions twist and turn, especially if I wait too long to enter the circle. But where the hell do they think they are going? It's not like I could part the traffic jam like the Red Sea and make my way home, and there are other cars merging into my lane. But eventually, I reach the mouth of Route 6, and it is here that the road ragers show themselves.

Like a snake, the road curves onto Route 6, and the road beside it was meant for those to cruise around the circle, heading to alternate exits. But someone decided instead to use this lane as a way of speeding ahead of other drivers and nearly missing the cars coming toward you in the opposite lane, and everyone behind him plays follow the leader. The problem is this. The road is too narrow for two cars to merge together, and if you're in the right lane, you wind up being pushed off the road. But if you're in the wrong lane, then you risk a head on collision, and nobody yields when entering Route 6. Instead, they play speed racer, hoping to outgun their opponent, and sometimes they're victorious. And sometimes, they're not.

Once we all come together again, tailgating the other down this narrow piece of land, you think that everyone would remain in line, awaiting the next merger point. But every now and then, you get someone impatient, holding a cell phone to their ear, and gripping one hand to the steering wheel, and in the next moment, they hit the gas, daring to go into the opposite lane to cut you off. But on this long stretch of concrete, you can't always see the opposite side drivers until it's too late, and then they swerve behind you, narrowly avoiding an accident. And you know that they are far from done. Once the next merger point arrives, they are in desperate need for speed, and personally, let them hit the gas. It's a beautiful scenic drop over the Woodbury Commons area, and they can enjoy the view on their way down. But they never get that far.

Instead, it's the tortoise versus the hare. They speed across the merger lane, trying to cut you off, and you try not to hit them. But again, this is a narrow stretch of road not meant for two cars to occupy the same lane, but they don't yield. Maybe they're afraid of being left behind, or maybe their foot is just glued to the gas pedal. But every time when rush hour is thick, it's a fun ride going through this merger point because everyone wants to get home, but where do they think they are going? Once past this point, it's still a good drive to wherever you live, but they don't care. They're the Me First, and their cars will come very dangerously close to giving you a new paint job. And every time I see the angry, red lights of rush hour, all I can do is think, "Here we go again."