He tore out the advertisement from last week’s newspaper and put it on the kitchen table where I couldn’t help but see it. He’s subtle like that.
The coloured ad read “Stay safe in Wellington County: navigate roundabouts with ease.” It pictured a map of a roundabout, complete with directional arrows and a four-step guide on how to merge in, when to yield, a reminder to stop for pedestrians, and the ever-important need to use signals. I’m a visual learner; this works for me. So much of life’s problems could be solved if people would just learn to signal.
The advertisement featured Roundy, the cute little curved roundabout character with an arrow head and big eyes, hands and feet. Adorable.
I am also very aware that the Carpenter tore the ad out and left it in the most obvious spot as a signal that his recent experience as a passenger in my car, during which we rode through not one, but two roundabouts, each way, left something to be desired.
I probably shouldn’t have yelled out, “this car corners like she’s on rails,” and then tried to prove it by giving the little car a little extra gas.
Oh don’t panic, I was still within the speed limit, I was just pushing said limit, and also his. For instance, he didn’t appreciate it when I yelled “wee” and “look, no hands” (I promise, I always have my hands on the steering wheel, but for a second, it freaks him out). “Made ya look,” also did not elicit the humour I intend.
I drive through at least two roundabouts per day, often more. I admit, I really like them. I think they are a smart way to keep traffic moving and they’re fun. Despite my husband’s subtle attempt at kicking my ego’s tires, I have a clean driving record, I drive the speed limit, and I follow Roundy’s four-step plan every time I enter and exit a roundabout.
It infuriates other drivers, I think, but I’m learning how stupid people are when they get behind the wheel. It’s like the internet; behind a windshield (or computer screen) everyone’s a little more brave and a lot more stupid.
I should clarify: roundabouts are a smart way to keep traffic moving if the other drivers in the roundabout know how to use them, and bonus points if they know how to signal their exit. It’s not that hard.
Step 4: Don’t forget to signal as you slowly exit. Two key words there: signal and slowly. This ain’t NASCAR.
If you see me in the roundabout driving responsibly and signalling properly, don’t look for the Carpenter riding shotgun in my sexy little Toyota. Once was enough, apparently. Years of driving to Toronto have destroyed his love of the open road.
Me? I like to take back roads and detours instead of straight lines, because wanderers need to wander. He is not a wanderer.
Ah, but when my Carpenter holds that little handlebar over the passenger window as if my car really is on rails, it makes my heart happy. When I pretend my car is a standard sports coupe, at 60km/h, and I make gear-shifting sounds, and he eyes me sideways, contemplating his life choices, it’s adorable.
Keep life interesting, but please, use your signals. Drive safe.
