Originally Posted By: MCompact
I have nothing against 99% of Prius owners; that said, I LOVE this story from Jalopnik:
"The Prius Lady"
Well worth the read...
There are two types of slow drivers in the left lane. The Enforcers and the ADL.
The Enforcers are those drivers who will drive The Speed Limit no matter what, making sure everyone behind also drives The Speed Limit. Because it is Safe. Because it is The Law. These people must always be feeling the effects of the thin air at the extreme altitudes of their moral high ground because of the way they always look at you when you pass them on the right, They KNOW you are a bad person.
Then there is the ADL, aka the Anti-Destination League. They are the oblivious cousins to the Enforcers. This pox on humanity’s highways simply exists keep you from getting anywhere. Whether it is by driving 10mph slower than everyone else, riding the line with their blinker on for miles, or coming to a stop for free-flowing traffic at an on-ramp, these drivers somehow always manage to find their way into the left lane where they can inflict maximum chaos upon the driving masses. It must be a directive in the ADL Handbook. I’ve never actually read the thing...
This story is about a driver too disruptive for the Enforcer ranks, but I’m betting the ADL was too scared to take her on.
When I started commuting south into San Antonio every day it didn’t take long to start recognizing other cars. The lifted white F-150 with emergency lights and volunteer fire department stickers. The silver Miata with a hard top that I pass most mornings leaving New Braunfels. And the Prius Lady.
I called her the Prius Lady (PL) in reference to Dana Carvey’s Church Lady character from Saturday Night Live. You know the stereotype. Holier-than-thou because she drives the automotive equivalent to the Saviour of the environment. Drives 66mph in the left lane of a 70mph zone where everyone is already doing 75-80mph. Hey, I live in Central Texas, speeding is a constitutional right, right? Now you may think since I am on Jalopnik that maybe I simply profile every poor soul driving a Toyota ‘Pious’, but no.
There was only one Prius with an "I LOVE FERRETS" bumper sticker.
PL would always get on I-35 southbound at the Cibolo ramp, around 7:15am. She would put on her left turn signal and then come across two more lanes to the fast lane, all at that same 65-66mph speed. The momentum of all three lanes would stutter, brake lights flashing as everyone else adjusted to her speed and then jockeyed for position to go around her on the right. Not seeing her on the way in to work was a good commute. Coming up behind her and getting stuck there while traffic whipped by on the right sucked. Had my fair share of both.
In those days I was still driving my GTI VR6 and I can’t tell you how many times I buzzed by PL on the right in 3rd gear just to see the displeased look on her face at my combined disdain for traffic law and the environment. After a while my OEM exhaust had finally rotted away so I gleefully admit to fitting an aftermarket system along with one of the much-cussed/discussed cat-delete ‘test pipes’.
The Sound was Glorious.
I questioned all the years of my previously-held sanity, that I should not spend money that didn’t need to be spent, that I should not fix that which was not broken. But now I knew. Every VR6's soul was already broken straight from the factory. Saddled with the much-reviled ‘suitcase’ sound chambers. How the angels must have wept the first time those 12V head exhaust ports were free to breathe more openly. But I digress...
Commuting with the new pipe was invigorating. And if I buzzed by my old ferret-loving fellow commuter in 3rd gear it got her all excited too! There were several mornings where I almost thought she liked it, but it was not so.
On the morning of The Greatest Commute Ever I came upon ‘ol PL in the left lane and, with a quickness in my left toe and right wrist, I grabbed 3rd gear in time to slip into the middle lane and zip around her... Just in time to see the wall of brake lights. Yeah, it was bad timing on my part as I was not focused far enough ahead. So we all come to a stop, with PL right behind me for probably the first time ever. And then we proceeded to begin the stop-and-go dance.
In case you don’t know, an early 12V VR6 with a mostly-open exhaust is actually pretty bassy at low RPMs. So every time we inched forward the back of my car was giving PL a nice break from that complete lack of aural stimulation that a Prius enforces upon its interior. Bunched up as we were I could clearly see her eyes widen and her lips mumble as I would start moving. Being a self-professed considerate type I thought maybe she would appreciate a change so as I rolled to a stop once again I blipped the throttle. If it works for Harley’s, right?
Let me tell you it did NOT work for PL. She began talking to me through her windshield for a moment before suddenly stopping and pressing her lips together in a hard line. The next time we moved I did it again, two revs this time. That got me approximately twice the amount of reaction. Now we all know that twice can be a coincidence but three times provides the proof, so next time I rolled to a stop I gave her the full tachometer sweep and PL came unglued.
I think the best word is apoplectic. Yeah, because it looked like her head was going to pop off. When my foot went down she looked like she was bouncing off some internal rev-limiter. I began revving the motor up and down, just sitting there. She must have rolled down her window because suddenly her shaking fist appeared outside the car over her driver’s mirror, proudly sporting a rigid middle finger.
By this point I’m laughing like a maniac at her completely useless, impotent rage. As I’m shaking my head something else catches my eye on the right and I look over to see the guy next to me waving like, ‘[censored], Man?’ from his full-size pickup. I point over my shoulder at erupting Prius Lady and he looks back, I see the light bulb come on in his head, and he starts laughing, too. And then he waved at me again and held up his index finger in that way that people use to indicate ‘wait just a moment’. He reached downward for something, then turned and smiled, and revved his diesel engine... Yeah.
He must have had dual exhausts because black smoke poured out of both sides at the back of his truck, right over perspicacious Prius Lady’s pristine Prius.
I admit, I laughed so hard that I peed a little.
Very funny, and insightful writing. Thanks for sharing.
I have nothing against 99% of Prius owners; that said, I LOVE this story from Jalopnik:
"The Prius Lady"
Well worth the read...
There are two types of slow drivers in the left lane. The Enforcers and the ADL.
The Enforcers are those drivers who will drive The Speed Limit no matter what, making sure everyone behind also drives The Speed Limit. Because it is Safe. Because it is The Law. These people must always be feeling the effects of the thin air at the extreme altitudes of their moral high ground because of the way they always look at you when you pass them on the right, They KNOW you are a bad person.
Then there is the ADL, aka the Anti-Destination League. They are the oblivious cousins to the Enforcers. This pox on humanity’s highways simply exists keep you from getting anywhere. Whether it is by driving 10mph slower than everyone else, riding the line with their blinker on for miles, or coming to a stop for free-flowing traffic at an on-ramp, these drivers somehow always manage to find their way into the left lane where they can inflict maximum chaos upon the driving masses. It must be a directive in the ADL Handbook. I’ve never actually read the thing...
This story is about a driver too disruptive for the Enforcer ranks, but I’m betting the ADL was too scared to take her on.
When I started commuting south into San Antonio every day it didn’t take long to start recognizing other cars. The lifted white F-150 with emergency lights and volunteer fire department stickers. The silver Miata with a hard top that I pass most mornings leaving New Braunfels. And the Prius Lady.
I called her the Prius Lady (PL) in reference to Dana Carvey’s Church Lady character from Saturday Night Live. You know the stereotype. Holier-than-thou because she drives the automotive equivalent to the Saviour of the environment. Drives 66mph in the left lane of a 70mph zone where everyone is already doing 75-80mph. Hey, I live in Central Texas, speeding is a constitutional right, right? Now you may think since I am on Jalopnik that maybe I simply profile every poor soul driving a Toyota ‘Pious’, but no.
There was only one Prius with an "I LOVE FERRETS" bumper sticker.
PL would always get on I-35 southbound at the Cibolo ramp, around 7:15am. She would put on her left turn signal and then come across two more lanes to the fast lane, all at that same 65-66mph speed. The momentum of all three lanes would stutter, brake lights flashing as everyone else adjusted to her speed and then jockeyed for position to go around her on the right. Not seeing her on the way in to work was a good commute. Coming up behind her and getting stuck there while traffic whipped by on the right sucked. Had my fair share of both.
In those days I was still driving my GTI VR6 and I can’t tell you how many times I buzzed by PL on the right in 3rd gear just to see the displeased look on her face at my combined disdain for traffic law and the environment. After a while my OEM exhaust had finally rotted away so I gleefully admit to fitting an aftermarket system along with one of the much-cussed/discussed cat-delete ‘test pipes’.
The Sound was Glorious.
I questioned all the years of my previously-held sanity, that I should not spend money that didn’t need to be spent, that I should not fix that which was not broken. But now I knew. Every VR6's soul was already broken straight from the factory. Saddled with the much-reviled ‘suitcase’ sound chambers. How the angels must have wept the first time those 12V head exhaust ports were free to breathe more openly. But I digress...
Commuting with the new pipe was invigorating. And if I buzzed by my old ferret-loving fellow commuter in 3rd gear it got her all excited too! There were several mornings where I almost thought she liked it, but it was not so.
On the morning of The Greatest Commute Ever I came upon ‘ol PL in the left lane and, with a quickness in my left toe and right wrist, I grabbed 3rd gear in time to slip into the middle lane and zip around her... Just in time to see the wall of brake lights. Yeah, it was bad timing on my part as I was not focused far enough ahead. So we all come to a stop, with PL right behind me for probably the first time ever. And then we proceeded to begin the stop-and-go dance.
In case you don’t know, an early 12V VR6 with a mostly-open exhaust is actually pretty bassy at low RPMs. So every time we inched forward the back of my car was giving PL a nice break from that complete lack of aural stimulation that a Prius enforces upon its interior. Bunched up as we were I could clearly see her eyes widen and her lips mumble as I would start moving. Being a self-professed considerate type I thought maybe she would appreciate a change so as I rolled to a stop once again I blipped the throttle. If it works for Harley’s, right?
Let me tell you it did NOT work for PL. She began talking to me through her windshield for a moment before suddenly stopping and pressing her lips together in a hard line. The next time we moved I did it again, two revs this time. That got me approximately twice the amount of reaction. Now we all know that twice can be a coincidence but three times provides the proof, so next time I rolled to a stop I gave her the full tachometer sweep and PL came unglued.
I think the best word is apoplectic. Yeah, because it looked like her head was going to pop off. When my foot went down she looked like she was bouncing off some internal rev-limiter. I began revving the motor up and down, just sitting there. She must have rolled down her window because suddenly her shaking fist appeared outside the car over her driver’s mirror, proudly sporting a rigid middle finger.
By this point I’m laughing like a maniac at her completely useless, impotent rage. As I’m shaking my head something else catches my eye on the right and I look over to see the guy next to me waving like, ‘[censored], Man?’ from his full-size pickup. I point over my shoulder at erupting Prius Lady and he looks back, I see the light bulb come on in his head, and he starts laughing, too. And then he waved at me again and held up his index finger in that way that people use to indicate ‘wait just a moment’. He reached downward for something, then turned and smiled, and revved his diesel engine... Yeah.
He must have had dual exhausts because black smoke poured out of both sides at the back of his truck, right over perspicacious Prius Lady’s pristine Prius.
I admit, I laughed so hard that I peed a little.
Very funny, and insightful writing. Thanks for sharing.
