My sister is in San Fransisco for the summer, and she lent me her car while she's gone. At first, I have to say, I was very excited about the prospect of my own wheels. I hadn't had a car at my disposal since high school and with a number of weddings this summer I thought it would be quite convenient.
It's only July and I already know that I just can't handle having a car in Boston. Between trying to find parking, paying outrageous sums of money for garage parking, and never finding parking, it's just not as convenient as I had hoped. Not to mention the traffic, which at most times is exactly what I imagine Dante's fifth circle of hell to be like: a bunch of angry people sitting with their windows open, honking itermittently for no discernible reason, and punching their steering wheels to the beat of the speed metal blasting from their stereos.
But my biggest issue, the thing that really irks me to the extent that I occasionally join the legions of wheel-punchers out there, is this: when I'm backed up in traffic in a lane that isn't moving, while the lane to my right seems to be going just fine. I, as the person right behind the car that is turning left and causing the blockage, should clearly be the first one to go when the coast is clear, but oh no. Every car behind me thinks that they should jump ahead and pull out from behind me, driving bye with smug little smirks on their faces while I bloody my knuckles on my hapless steering column.
Ok. Good. It's out now. I can think about other things.