In the first of her weekly automotive columns, feisty femme, fashionista and serial shopaholic Jasmine shares her experiences with an SUV-wielding bully.
The thing about SUV owners is that they are usually just about the only ones on the road who think their vehicles of choice are fabulous. Whoever planted this dumb idea in peoples’ heads needs to have their aura re-charted!
Instead, I’d suggest that high-flying salt-and-pepper haired execs take their aggression out on those perfect little golfballs the next time they swing by the club. Mums bored with the school run, wearing scarlet lipstick and way too much gold, should really find a hobby too, preferably one other than tearing over my low-slung chariot at every intersection.
It has to be noted that SUVs definitely have their uses, though… They are perfect for hopping curbs outside the mall and then hauling all the goodies (bought with the money saved on parking fees, of course) back home. And, with luck, you’ll have some spare change with which to purchase a Citronella-fragranced candle, essential for warding off the spirits of the boete bessies intent on making a quick buck at your expense.
By the same token, cellphones are glorious inventions, ensuring that no matter where you are, you’ll always be able to reach your personal astrologist or colour therapist . Whether these “professionals” leave their cellphones on in the cinema or at the theatre is another story altogether.
However, when SUVs and cellphones combine they start to pose a problem for Sunny (that’s my car) and me. It’s hard to see Tina or Tony jabbering away on his/her handset when you have the monster SUV’s ample behind – emblazoned with a personalised plate declaring its driver to be a “babe” – staring you in the face. And you’re left scratching your head wondering why this thing is weaving about like a sozzled elephant on rollerskates.
When you reach a bend, you will clearly see the irresponsible road user in question cackling away, head thrown back, about to mount another curb. With only vibracrete fences and little poodles on their morning walks in sight you expect the worse and start thinking about the happy times – then Tina/Tony yanks the steering wheel to the right in the nick of time and continues unfazed. Practice makes perfect, it seems…
However, one of the joys of driving in peak hour traffic is allowing yourself a safe (two second) following distance. This is then viewed as the perfect space for someone to slot their not-so-tiny car into as a way of ‘negotiating’ the traffic. Being the courteous driver that I am, this is usually met by a big old grin from me as I willingly allow him or her passage and let someone else become more intimate with the self-proclaimed babe’s big, weaving SUV rear end. Ciao for now
