You are what you drive

Given my eternal and inevitable rage at the flagrant breach of road rules by my lesser companions on Jozi’s roads, I have decided to turn the event into something ever so slightly less unpleasant with the creation of this game. Partial credit deservedly goes to Always the Wit for his recent list of Clint Eastwood’s handy tips on manhood.

So, dear readers, try to match the description of a driver in the first list, to that driver’s car, in the second list. So you can’t cheat (and I look marginally more popular, mwahahaha), the answers are in the comments section….

Driver description

A – Flicks headlights at cars from 50 m away, to alert drivers in front that it (usually he) is more special than they are, and that it should be allowed past by mere virtue of the fact that it drives this car, which is naturally better than what you’re driving.

B – Digestion-upsetting, epileptic fit-inducing trance music played at noise polluting level (windows open, naturally) to which potentially Ecstasy-riddled driver unfolds a dangerous ballet of zooming, weaving and brake-squealing.

C – Driver’s arm hangs impossibly far out the window, perhaps functioning as a counter balance for the 2 wheels that have mounted the pavement to drive past the queue to the get to the front at the robot, at which point the driver will ignore the red light (and the right-only turn sign) and take his rightful place as the slow motherfucker at the front of the fuming queue of drivers in the not-so-fast-anymore right hand lane.

D – Polite, considerate, perhaps a wee bit over the speed limit female who alerts all drivers to her intentions by indicating a suitable amount of time before turning (especially when she’s in a fair amount of traffic and needs to turn right where there is no turning lane, and thoughtfully wishes her fellow drivers to avoid having to queue behind her because they didn’t realize she wanted to turn), who stops at red robots and stop streets, who lets people into the lane when they’re politely indicating their intentions and screams like crazy when they’re not – often the perpetrators in description C above – and has an unhealthy habit of speaking of her car as though it were the living, breathing, love of her life.

E – Always drives at the recommended speed limit, never has any outstanding fines (in all likelihood because she’s never received one), and crumbles at the aggression of anyone else on the road – even cyclists. Often oblivious to the fact that she might be irking her fellow drivers who expect to be able to break the speed limit in the left-hand lane, too. Widely acknowledged as soccer moms.

F – The kind of driver who would readily take on the driver described in C, and in which fantasy battle you would find it exceptionally difficult to choose a side to support. Aggressive and vulture-like, the drivers hang around in packs, yet feed off each other when push comes to shove. An Afrikaner fortress.

G – The buppies’ choice (is it a choice, or a cultural obligation, one wonders?)

H – De rigeur personalized porno number plates (eg Flashy 1, 2Cool4U, HotStuff, Da Bomb, Eat Dirt etc) and platinum blonde Flavour of the Week in the passenger’s seat.

I – trendy driver of Mediterranean descent standing on the side of the highway waiting for driver of vehicle described in F, fuming at how such visionary aesthetic design can be matched with such poor mechanical understanding of Tiptronic gearboxes.

Car type

1 - Tow truck, AA-accredited or otherwise
2 - Any BMW 3-series of 5-series, sometimes 1-series, always in metallic black
3 - Lamborghini – all models (of cars, humans too)
4 - BMW 530d
4 – Toyota Hi-Ace
5 - Volvo S70
6 – Alfa 147 Selespeed
7 - Subaru – any model
8 - Green Corsa Lite