Jo’burg drivers need to keep calm and carry on.

I’m going to have a little rant. Every day for the past two weeks, I’ve encountered angry people driving recklessly on the roads. And it’s not even justified anger; it’s just utter rudeness and irritation. 

Just because I drive a 1992 Toyota Corolla (which I love, btw) does not mean you can drive aggressively up my rear end, flashing lights and flipping the bird, when I’m driving the Speed Limit! Remember that? The little practice that sets the rules for how fast you can drive on the roads, particularly in residential areas? 

It’s all kinds of people who drive like deranged lunatics as well. Old ladies (yes, they are often the worst!); young student boys pumping their bad music while smoking and hanging their skinny arms out the window; arrogant businessmen who think they’re more important than you in their stuffy suits; taxi drivers, oh taxi drivers; and koogals, who are usually too busy trying to SMS and drive, and/or are looking at themselves in their rearview mirror instead of at the road behind them. Oh, and mom drivers in big 4x4s, so harassed by the brats in the back seat that they take their anger out on me and poor Car. Sheesh. 

In Jo’burg there seems to be an unwritten rule that the more expensive your car, the more you can bully those who drive more ‘economical’ ones. There should be a disclaimer on their licenses then, I think. It could say something like [caveman speak], “Me have big car. Me drive like asshole.” 

Just this morning, while driving up Glenhove Road and travelling at the 60km/hour speed limit mind you, a large BMW came screaming up behind me, as if to say, “Go faster! How dare you obey the law and drive the speed limit! Can’t you see my big fancy car is on the road this morning? Move over, or better still, drive up onto the grassy pavement and make way for me and my sense of entitlement!” 

To make matters worse, I actually drove faster. BMW looked as though it was about to ram me right up the rear end then! When impatient BMW finally passed me, only to stop at the red robot at Oxford Road with all the other lesser urchins anyway, I was appalled to see the driver was a well-dressed old woman! The kind you might consider carrying a grocery bag across the street for. Well, I ain’t carrying your grocery bag ever you pompous ponce.