Let me preface this by informing you that this week was the first time I have had a car in LA. And perhaps, this has not been the most beneficial to my fellow drivers. Take exhibit A:
Yes, this occurred when I tried to parallel park between two ginormous (aka American standard) trucks up in West Hollywood. Let's just say that: (a) it's a rare skill to be able to pretty much hang your car off of the rear bumper of another; and (b) it's a long time since I have driven anything other than a bicycle, and there's probably a reason for that. It's all boding so well for my California driving test next Tuesday; remind me to pick my short skirt up from the dry cleaners...
Anyway, back to my new discovery: L.A. Can't Drive. Seriously, crying with laughter as I peruse comments on dumb-ass manouvres executed all over town. For example:
"In all fairness, this motherfracker hails from Alaska. However, with the way she was driving, she might as well hail from Venice Beach"
"However, whenever he wasn’t texting, he had the gall to morph into an impatient, zigzagging, tailgating, non-signaling jackass."
"There were plenty of moments where she had clearance to cross the westbound lanes of Sunset, but she just sat like a lobotomized duck in a cage, while narrowly missing one collision after another with eastbound vehicles."
I fear I may be appearing on there soon...
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