Etiquette Hell = Where the ill-mannered deserve to go


Main Page/Home

The Faux Pas Archives
Wedding Etiquette

Bridesmaids and Beastmen
Bridal Showers
Bridezillas and Groomonsters
Faux Pas of the Year
Gimme, Gimme, Gimme
Guests From Hell
Tacky Invitations
Wedding Rugrats
Just Plain Tacky
Tacky Toasts
Thank You Notes From Hell
Tacky Vendors
Wedding From Hell
Wicked Witches of the Wedding
Perfect Bride
Bridesmaid Dress Incinerator



Everyday Etiquette

Baby Showers
The Dating Game
Ooops! Foot in Mouth Disease
Funeral Etiquette
Gimme Hell
Holiday Hell
Just Plain Tacky
It's all Relatives
Every Day RugRats
Road Rage

Business Etiquette

Bad Business Etiquette
Merchants of Etiquette Hell
Bad Bosses

Faux Pas of the Year




Press Room/Contact


Road Rage

2002 Archive
Jan-Jun 2003 Archive
Jul-Dec 2003 Archive
Jan-Jun 2004 Archive
Jul-Dec 2004 Archive
Jan-Jun 2005 Archive
Jul-Dec 2005 Archive

Story #1: Actually, this was deep road satisfaction.  After a very heavy rain, I had to drive down a street that was flooded up to the floorboards of my Plymouth Horizon (this was back in the 1980s).  Flooded roads weren’t rare where I lived then, so I was driving very slowly and frequently checking my brakes, as one does on a flooded road.  It was a 2-lane street in town.

In my left rear-view mirror I see one of those pickups jacked up on huge tires barreling down through the water, easily 35-40 mph.  They pass me without slowing, and my car is completely engulfed by their wake.  Dirty, backed-up street water got inside my car and all over me.  When I could see out my front window again, I saw one young man leaning out the passenger side window, looking at me and laughing.

Gritting my teeth, I continued on my slow, safe way.  Imagine my satisfaction when I saw that same jacked-up pickup stalled and in the ditch!  I drove slowly past, laughing my @$$ off.  Got home without either stalling or running off the road.


Story #2.  I pulled up to a stop light where there were two left-turn lanes.  I was in the right-hand one and a man was mostly in the left-hand one, but over the line a bit.  Since my car (Hyundai Elantra) was tiny, there was still room. 

Light turns green, I make my turn, staying in my lane.  Suddenly I hear a furious honking behind me, and that man is waving the finger out his window, laying on the horn and yelling at me.  I gave him a “huh?” gesture and kept going, still in the right-hand lane as I was turning right at the next light.  He drives in the lane next to me still honking and yelling.  I didn’t bother to roll down my window and couldn’t hear him, and I have no idea what his problem was.  He went straight through the light I turned right at, so it doesn’t seem likely he wanted my lane.  All I can figure is he didn’t know there were 2 left turn lanes and thought I was making a dangerous turn, but it’s well marked.  Beats me.


This just happen to me today, I was driving back from the bank to my house.  I notice someone swerving and honking at the same time, it's a one lane road, I was going about 30-35mph I was coming to my street where I was going to make a left, all of the sudden she passes me on the left nearly hitting my bumper, so we both turn together she went in front... I was so upset that I floored it and got really close to her bumper trying to get her attention I HONK and HONK... finally she looks at me thru the rear view mirror and was on phone, which is illegal too.  Anyway I follow her all the way to the stop where there was a Truck in front of her, so I just let her have it... I gave her a tiny push, to let her know, she doesn't mess w/ me like that.  So she just took off and I parked my car...  Now I'm scared that she might come and scratch my VW...


You tailgated her and then "gave her a tiny push"?  Yeah, you taught her a lesson alright.  That you are just as big a jerk as she is and just as deserving of rotisserating on the Ehell barbie.  Where's my basting brush?  


Back in the early '70s. pre-disco, (when dinosaurs ruled the earth) I was going to college about an hour from where my parents lived. I drove the freeway in between often enough to know where the usual speed traps were.

I was headed back to school one Sunday afternoon, in the fast lane, going 75, about 5 mph over the speed limit and quite a bit faster than the cars in the middle lane. A Plymouth Barracuda roared up behind me, staying so close I could barely see the hood in the rear view mirror. Traffic was thick in the middle lane, I put on my signal and tried to move over, but it was 1/4 mile or so before there was an opening. The guy driving the 'Cuda was going typical apefeces, flashing his lights, honking, pulling even closer, I could see but not hear that he was yelling.

I noticed we were approaching a probable speed trap, so I waited a bit to change lanes, still going 75 mph, so I'm not really holding him back much. When I moved over he roared past, waving his middle finger out the window. Matching it on the package shelf in the rear window was a carved wooden hand, also giving the finger.

Of course I had timed it so that he roared off into the waiting radar of the State Patrol. To my surprise he actually pulled over.

I waved parade-queen slow wave at him as I drove past.



Coming home from work, there was a rather large slowdown on my exit  ramp. I'm guessing either an accident or road construction was backing up traffic. Well, I noted a woman in a minivan felt that waiting in line to get off the highway was not her style, and drove over to the shoulder, passing everyone of us so she could get off sooner. About 10 minutes later when I finally arrived at the off-ramp, I looked to my right and saw the minivan on the shoulder, being questioned by a police officer. One of the few Karmic retributions I have seen on the road.



My mother is a dear, sweet, wonderful person -- who under no circumstances should have been granted a driver's license! She has a tendency to become lost in her thoughts, and her distraction has resulted in many near accidents, not to mention the myriad irate drivers unfortunate enough to be beside/behind/in-front-of her.

My favorite story regarding Mom's misguided driving techniques took place on a street near her home that she drives on nearly every day. This street has a large elementary school on it and, naturally, has a 15mph school zone along most of one block during most of the day. On this particular day, Mom was pondering this and that and failed to reduce her speed from however fast she was driving (probably 30-35mph) to the requisite 15mph. A scruffy-looking gentleman in a beat-up pickup truck was driving the opposite direction, saw my mother speeding along, leaned out his window and yelled, "SLOW THE F**K DOWN IN THE F**KING SCHOOL ZONE!!"

My mother now pays very close attention to her speed whenever she drives past a school.


In the early 90s, my circle of college and college-aged friends included a nice but somewhat clueless guy I'll just call DF.  DF was a bit of an attention hog (not visible upon first glance, but it became clear after a few months), tended to make aggrandizing, unverifiable claims, and, oh yes, had a baaaad track record with cars.  My experience with him one night made me realize just how bad it was.

He was driving me home from one of our weekly game sessions late one Wednesday, sometime just before midnight.  We were on a large 8-lane freeway in the fast lane (the lane farthest to the left), and it was pretty empty.  Empty, that was, until a car full of guys a few hundred feet appeared ahead of us, weaving in a way that screamed Drunk Driver in big, neon letters.  Damned if DF didn't just keep chatting, looking mostly at me, and *gaining* on these drunkards, who at any time were less than six inches away from the concrete barrier to the left, or three feet into the lane to the right.  I didn't want to be a backseat driver, but as we got closer, I realized there was no way I could politely get a word in edgewise, and I was really in fear of my safety.  When we got within four car lengths of this two-ton semi-controlled missile, I finally interrupted, in a rather small voice, "DF, I don't want to nag, but can we please not follow this car so closely?"

His response?  A strained, polite, "Please don't take this the wrong way, but don't tell me how to drive."

Then he proceeded to put on the gas and pass the drunk driver.  This was bad enough, but he didn't even do it in the lane farthest away. HE PASSED IN THE LANE RIGHT NEXT TO THEM.  The one that they kept weaving into?  Yeah, that one.  I think I lost five years of life that night, and he never understood why I was so upset.  It was only my second time being driven in his car, and I never set foot in his vehicle again.

I later found out that he went through NINE (I kid you not, NINE) vehicles in the three years we associated with him.  One of them was honestly stolen, one was a turbo sports car he abused (didn't shut it down properly after freeway speeds, and wound up wrecking the engine), and the others met with untimely accidents, "none" of which were his fault.  In the early 90s, he was such a risk that he paid over $1200 a month for insurance.  It's said that God watches over fools and small children, and he was awful old to be in the latter....



I was working at an office building when I slipped on their front steps during a rain storm and broke my leg. When I was able to get to work again, it was in a cast with crutches and with a handicapped parking placard. I parked in the handicapped space in the building parking lot for several days. As I pulled in one morning, a woman who was parked next to me in a huge black truck, got out of her truck and told me I couldn’t park there. I said, “Well, it is a handicapped space and I have a handicapped placard because of my broken leg.” I then kind of waved my crutches so she could see them. She said that I couldn’t park there all day because it was a temporary parking space. I said, “No, it is a handicapped parking space and I have a handicapped placard.” This continued on – back and forth – until my friend and I got on the elevator. My friend couldn’t believe that the woman was so mean.

Later, the Building Manager, who knew I had been injured on the building property, came to my office and asked if he could give me another parking spot. It seems that the woman worked for a doctor’s office in the building and that is where they told their patients to park when they had an appointment. I told the Building Manager that he could give me her parking space (which was right next to the Handicapped spot) or she could have her patients park in her spot. You’d think someone who worked at a doctor’s office would have a little more compassion for someone who was handicapped.



We were in the parking lot of a major grocery store, climbing into our cars, when we heard this terrible ruckus a row or so over.  Apparently this is what happened: a man, his wife, and his two kids were climbing into their car and getting ready to drive away, when someone (rather thoughtlessly) pulled into the space beside them before the children got the opportunity to close their door.

The man was standing in the middle of the parking lot screaming so loud that we could hear every word he said with perfect clarity:  "YOU F****ING S***!  YOU DUMB**** W****!  CAN'T YOU SEE THERE ARE CHILDREN PRESENT?  I'LL BEAT THE  S*** OUT OF YOU!  DON'T YOU KNOW HOW TO BEHAVE AROUND KIDS?!!!!  LEARN SOME RESPONSIBILITY YOU F******* B*****!!!!"

Meanwhile the kids were just sitting there in the car, blinking up at him as he screamed unto hoarseness and threatened to cause the woman bodily harm. He was so loud, I doubt he heard my husband and I laughing at him.  We appreciate good irony.



Our city, every year, does an AIDS walk where people from around town gather and walk about 2 or 3 miles to raise money for local charities. This invariably will hold up traffic. Of course local police are out to help redirect and hold traffic even against lights so that the literal sea of people can get across the street. Now one year (I think it was 2000) we had to cross two sections of the same very busy street. The first crossing was still around 9 in the morning on a Saturday, so not very busy, but busy enough that someone had to honk their horn once or twice to let the Policeman know that there were cars waiting, because obviously the officer was blind and could only hear them. 

The second crossing at an even more integral intersection was the most amusing. While the police generally allowed the groups to cross in chunks, there were so many they held the traffic for about 2 light changes. There was one gentleman who was obviously in a hurry and we were causing him the most gregarious inconvenience. He was literally fuming in his car. The horn was not being barked, but one loud wail out of his little puddle jumper. It was amusing to watch him writhe in his car in absolute fury, screaming at us (his windows were closed) and getting more hysterical by the moment. He was the fifth car back in line, and no one else seemed that put out by having to wait for the throng of people to get through the intersection. The gentleman was inconvenienced for no more than 5 minutes. And apparently it was more than he could handle. Normally displays of that nature are frightening, but watching this man, and realizing the impotence of his situation, was downright hilarious. 



My story happened about a year ago, when I was 19. I used to live on a farm just outside a village (literally, that's part of its name, and it's basically an intersection with a couple stores on it). Anyway, since there was no place to go food shopping or really anything else, unless I felt like getting Subway every day, I and my former roommate would drive into the nearby town.

The drive is pretty straightforward, from the village to the town on a provincial highway (I'm Canadian). This highway is partially one-lane and partially two-lane, at least in the section I was driving on. Coming out of the town it's a one-lane that switches to a two-lane until just before the village.

We were driving home, just chatting and laughing, as you do. To note, I'm a young white female in a sporty black car. So we're driving at around the speed limit/a bit over to keep up with traffic. I have a habit of looking in my rear-view mirror a lot, and I noticed some guy was really tail-gating me. I'm talking so close I could actually see him through his windshield.

Now, I hate being tailgated. It drives me absolutely nuts. So I lightly tap my brakes to say please back off. What does this guy do? He gets CLOSER. I could no longer even see the front of his car. Getting annoyed now (and I do admit this was wrong, I should've kept my cool), I hit the brakes harder to warn him off. Keep in mind that I'm in the fast lane of the highway and traffic is moderately light.

So this guy is still right up my butt and I give up; I couldn't afford to be rear-ended. I keep checking, and he's not taking advantage of the now empty lane on my right to overtake me. So I figure, whatever, he's just being a jerk; hopefully the cops will catch him but if not, well, I turn off the highway at the village lights.

Just as the lane on my right was closing in to a one-lane, this utter moron moves out, zips past me, and then slams on the brakes. My roommate screamed, I cursed, and I barely managed to keep from smashing into him. After this he takes off again, while I, rather shaken up, reduce my speed and continue.

In retrospect, I should've jotted down his license plate and called the local cop shop, but I guess I was just too shocked by his behavior. 


I am one of those people who regardless of what is going on in my life will stop and help someone in need.  A couple of months ago I was driving in a small rural town in southern WV, I drive a large 1-ton truck, and at the time I was pulling a large trailer as well.  When approaching an intersection I need an especially large area to turn, I was taking both center and right lanes as to have enough room to make the right hand turn onto a two-lane road with my 48ft horse trailer in tow.  Whenever I approach an intersection I always swing the trailer so nobody can pull into my blind spot, doing this completely blocks the two lanes.  When I started to pull out I noticed a large SUV pull out just down the street so, I decided to wait ten seconds allowing him to pass as I will still need the oncoming lane to make the sharp turn.  

When I inched forward and stopped, a guy from NC driving a tiny little Mazda Miata floored it, four-wheel sliding around me trying to make the turn before me, slides into the left lane and is annihilated by the SUV.  I pull my truck, my trailer, and my horses into the road to block traffic so he doesn’t get hit by another car.  I run to his car (as do many other drivers) carrying a fire extinguisher and put out the small fire.  Turn off his ignition and check the car for leaking gas, there is no reason to suspect the car will cause anymore problems, we tell the man to stay in the car until professional help arrives, about a half-hour.  The man insists on getting out, we try to keep him calm and immobilized in the car.  Eventually, help arrives treating him for many broken bones including a fractured spine.  The four of us who helped him learned exactly what his injuries were at the court hearing, when he tried to sue us for causing him undue stress after the accident.  I will still help someone at an accident but now, I don’t let anyone know my name, and I leave as soon as help gets there.



Page Last Updated July 30, 2007