RUBBER-NECKERS

Now this is something that really pisses me off…rubberneckers. Or should I say “JACKASSES!”

Back in Utah, rubbernecking (or jackassing) is a problem, but here in North Carolina, rubbernecking rises to a whole new level. I swear, the people here must have never seen an accident, a cop who has someone pulled over, a lone cop sitting on the side of the road with his lights on (or off), or even a stalled car on the side of the damn road! Because whenever something like this happens, traffic comes to a stand still. (Sometimes for miles.)

For example:
Not long after getting here, I was on my way into Wilmington (through one of only two routes) to go to a job interview. As I pulled into the freeway, there it was—a huge parking lot. We crept along at a snail’s pace for a few miles and for nearly 45 minutes. I figured either there was a horrible accident or the draw bridge over the Cape Fear River was up. So… was the bridge up and letting an extra-long boat through? NO. Was there a massive accident with bodies strewn all over the highway? NO. There was a big tow truck helping to change a flat tire on a cement truck! Almost 45 minutes sitting in traffic, in long pants and a tie, in the ugly humidity, all because everyone needed to catch a glimpse of someone CHANGING A FREAKIN’ TIRE!!

After being here for a while and seeing a number of lame incidents like the one above, I’ve gotten quite used to screaming at the top of my lungs a few times for the leader of the pack to “just freakin’ drive.” But the other day I almost popped a blood vessel yelling at the guy in front of me. I was on my way home from work (at 7:00 in the morning) and I hit gridlock just before the bridge. I could see that the bridge was not up, so I knew it had to be something stupid, and of course I was right. As I pulled up to the reason I had to spent 25 minutes in traffic after working a 12-hour shift, being tired as hell and maybe a bit cranky and just all around ready to go home, I saw what the problem was: two cars off to the side of the road, a little bit of colored glass on the ground and a cop (with his lights off) talking to two people who had obviously just had a small fender bender. I thought, “only a couple more gawking cars and it’s home free.” And now the root of my rubbernecker frustration… this sub-moronic, dim-witted, brainless, jackass hill-billy in front of me actually slowed down and craned his neck out his window to get a better look. Who knows, maybe he wanted to see if it was his “kin” or not. (Freakin’ redneck.) After watching him do his impression of an inbred owl for what seemed like minutes, I finally had to lean on my horn and let loose a chain of expletives that would make Dennis Leary blush. As he finally sped up, the man looked at me in his rearview mirror and shrugged. He actually shrugged his shoulders as if to say, “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. I’m a jackass.”

Fine, I understand—if you’re passing an accident and there are body parts scattered all over the road, then of course, look. If you’re driving down the road and you see a SWAT team pull over a van of illegal Mexican circus midgets, then please go ahead and stare. And by all means, if you see the Hawaiian Tropics Bikini Contest bus off to the side of the road, then rubberneck (I certainly would). But if it’s just a stalled car, sleeping cop, piece of debris, bag of homeless cats, or anything else petty, then please, for all that is holy, KEEP F*****G DRIVING JACKASS!!