Where Do These Drivers Come From?

I drive for a living. All day. Hours of it. Tight turns, bad roads, people who think a blinker is a personality trait. And somehow… it’s fine. I’m calm. Focused. Professional. Like I’m getting paid to babysit chaos.

Then I clock out.

And suddenly every absolute clown with a license crawls out of whatever cave they’ve been hiding in all day.

It’s like the universe flips a switch. The second I’m off the clock, every driver within a 20-mile radius decides, “Now. Now is the time to forget how roads work.” They cut me off like I’m invisible. Ride my bumper like they’re drafting in NASCAR. Slam brakes for no reason like they just remembered they left the stove on in 2007.

Where were you people at 10 a.m. when I was actually working?

Gone. Vanished. Probably napping or arguing on Facebook about gas prices while parked in a handicap spot.

But the second I just want to get home? Boom. It’s Thunderdome.

And it’s not just bad driving. It’s confident bad driving. That’s the part that kills me. These people aren’t confused. They’re committed. Fully locked into their own little main-character movie where everyone else is just background noise.

No turn signals. No awareness. Just vibes and bad decisions.

You ever notice how they always pull out right in front of you when there’s nobody behind you? Like they had options. They chose violence.

And don’t even get me started on the ones doing 12 under the speed limit… until you try to pass them. Then suddenly they’re auditioning for Fast & Furious: Walmart Edition.

Meanwhile I’m sitting there, white-knuckling the wheel, wondering how I survived eight hours of driving professionally just to get taken out by someone who treats a four-way stop like a philosophical suggestion.

There’s something cosmic about it. Like some chaotic force watches me all day, sees me handling business, staying cool, doing everything right… and goes, “Yeah, let’s mess with this guy specifically.”

I don’t even want much. I’m not asking for perfect drivers. Just basic human awareness. A pulse would be a nice start.

But no. Instead I get a rolling circus of entitlement and stupidity, all packed into rush hour like it’s a damn convention.

So yeah. I can drive all day without a problem.

It’s the five minutes after work that feel like a boss fight.