The GeekHiker

Saturday’s hike (writeup to come, well, whenever I get off my lazy butt and do it) went very smoothly. My leader skills seem to be okay, the group was very nice, and I met some very interesting people to chat with.

Heading from the spot we had lunch to the freeway, I was feeling pretty good. Getting a little Vitamin D goes a long way for me.

All was good until I headed for the Freeway to go home.

Sitting at a stoplight, stomach full from the (entirely too large guilty pleasure) hamburger I’d just had, three cars in front of me were waiting to turn onto the 101. It was warm, the windows were down, the radio was on, I wasn’t feeling any particular hurry to get anywhere, life was good.

Then, a car horn honked.

I didn’t think about it. I was stuck in a line of cars, so I figured it didn’t apply to me.

It honked again, and I realized it was from the Lexus sitting behind me.

The brand spanking new Lexus driven by someone who was, from what I could tell in the rear-view mirror, the very definition of “yuppie”.

I stared into the rear view mirror at the guy, and he honked again.

I made an over-exaggerated *shrug*, as in “we’re all stuck here at the red light, why you ‘honkin at me?”.

He honked again and gestured forward. He was in a hurry, I guess, and wanted to get on the freeway NOW.

It was then that I got it. The honk wasn’t for me. No, apparently this Lexus (why is it always Lexus’?) came with a magic horn that was supposed to make the honk skip over three cars to the guy at the stop line.

Of course, there’s no possible way that this yuppie, sitting in his so-new-the-plates-aren’t-on-it-yet Lexus, four cars back in the right hand turn lane could possibly know if the intersection was clear. Clearly, he didn’t care: he was in a hurry, and we were all in his way.

So he honked his horn. So we all would know how valuable his time was.

None of this should have surprised me. After all, I’ve talked about the rules of driving in LA before.

Yet, it did. The absolute insanity of what he was doing, trying to get a car four cars in front of him to make a possibly unsafe turn just so he could get wherever he was going faster, just blew me away.

As you might imagine, it wasn’t making me feel particularly warm towards my fellow man.

Not that I did anything, mind you. If he was expecting me to honk my horn and “pass it along” he was sorely disappointed.

The light turned green, I turned on to the entrance ramp, stopped behind the stoplight that regulates the traffic flow.

Mr. Lexus pulled into the diamond (carpool) lane, which doesn’t have a light, so he could zip up the on ramp.

I leaned out my window and did something I rarely do. I glared at him and his platinum blond wife. Whilst giving them the best, most finely executed middle finger I could.

Oh, sure, it was incredibly juvenile. Childish, even. I won’t even say that I’m very proud of myself.

But I really, really don’t appreciate being honked at because some idiot in a Lexus thinks he’s “special”.

No, I wasn’t proud. But it sure felt good.