They call me Rubberneck

Car accidents suck, unless of course you are watching NASCAR. I think anyone and everyone would agree with that. Well, today it's raining here. Some steady rain, mostly drizzle but certainly not a torrential downpour. Well, while I was out on the road running some errands, I came across an accident. Everyone looked ok and the damage to both vehicles was minimal at best. So, knowing that, why the fuck must people slow to a crawl and examine these accidents like it is there fucking job?

I was on a rather busy road which has a speed limit of 45. So for the life of me, I couldn't figure out why I was only going 10 mph. Well, that was answered when I saw the accident. What pisses me off is these people are not slowing down or stopping to see if everyone is alright. Perhaps they lie to themselves and honestly believe they are looking to help, but the truth of the matter is, its their sadistic side that makes them watch. Everyone passing an accident is "hoping" for carnage. Something so exciting that they can rush home and tell those they know, like they had just seen a spaceship. They are driven to slow down in hopes of seeing blood, massive damage, someone slumped over the steering wheel or maybe even a severed head. Man what a great story that would make, huh? Something they could pass down from generation to generation.

I understand the psychology behind it. We, as people are natural thrill seekers. We need to experience things that make us say "Wow!" Well, going 10mph in a 45mph zone didn't make me go wow. It made me say "What the fuck?!?!?" LOL

I was hoping with each and every car that slowed down to "rubberneck", that they would burst into flames so that the rest of the passers could marvel at their misfortune. At times, I wanted to get out of my truck and smash their fucking heads into their steering wheels. I could even picture me doing it and their horn honking with each violent thrust of their face. I carry a bat in my car for a "just in case" scenario, but today I imagined that it would become an "offensive" weapon. Swinging at their tragedy-seeking heads like I was Mark McGuire. I thought of the scene in "Platoon" where Kevin Dillon smashes a gook's head in with the stock of his rifle and then asks, "Man. Did you see the way that head came apart?"

I then took a deep breath, calmed my thoughts and rolled my window down and yelled "forget about the fucking accident and just fucking drive." Did it make a difference? I doubt it, but I still like to think so.