We Need Some New Horns
I was pulling into a shopping mall today, and the road that you turn in on has no stop sign, while the roundabout road that circles the mall does. This usually causes some confusion for people used to having a three-way stop there, and so some guy laid on his horn when I did what I was supposed to do: Keep driving. If we were speaking, this is how the conversation would’ve gone: “Hey, nice stop, asshole!” “I don’t have a stop sign, you blind fuck.” “Oh. Shit. Well, fuck you anyway.” Instead, our conversation went like this: “HOOONK!” “HOOOOOOONK!” “HOOOOOOOOOONK!” In this day and age, that’s the lowest level of discourse you can get outside of Facebook. We can do better.
So I think we need to design a handful of new horns to accurately convey our feelings and emotions while we’re driving. If I was running the world (and I think we all agree I should be), here’s how I would do it:
The situation: Saying goodbye to friends or family.
What we do now: The ol’ shave-and-a-haircut horn-toot, done softly
What we need: We need to just knock off doing that. It’s fucking stupid. I’ve yet to see anyone do this who hasn’t already said goodbye, so why do it? To show people that you’re hip to the jive and know how shave-and-a-haircut goes? Why not just hop out of the car and do the fucking Charleston while you’re at it?
Hey, grandpa! Remember this little ditty?
The situation: The guy in front of you is unaware that the light has turned green because he’s fucking with the radio, picking his nose, or dreaming of becoming a Jedi.
What we do now: A very soft double-toot to let the person know that he needs to pay attention, but we’re not gonna be, like, dicks about it.
What we need: We need a horn that emits a loud “AHEM!” which is what you would do if the two of you for some reason found yourself in the same situation without cars.
The response: Another horn that mumbles “Sorry” just above the threshold of hearing.
Ahem...
The situation: The guy you just horned “Ahem” to above isn’t fucking getting it.
What we do now: A single blast on the horn lasting one-Mississippi.
What we need: A horn that says, “Excuse me!” in that Jerry Springer-guest tone that lets it be known that while you may be polite right now, you’re only moments from throwing a chair.
The response: A horn that loudly replies, “Keep your pants on!”
Optional: If the response horn is held long enough, it adds expletives to the end: "Keep your pants on, you goat-molesting fuckface!"
The situation: The guy is still at the green light, and you are now in danger of missing the light.
What we do now: Lay on the horn for a solid three-Mississippi.
What we need: A horn that demands to know, “What the fuck is wrong with you, asshole? MOVE!”
The response: A horn that replies, “MY FUCKING CAR HAS BROKEN DOWN, IF THAT’S OK WITH YOU, SHITBAG!”
And your response: A horn that quietly says, “Oh. Sorry. Lots of luck with that.”
Yeah, I, uhhhh, didn't notice the flames. Sorry.
The situation: You see someone on the sidewalk that you know.
What we do now: Three or four quick toots in succession followed by a wave.
What we need: A horn that says, “Hey! I know you! And because I know you well, I’m not going to stop or pull over or anything. Because you’re kind of a pain in the nuts, honestly.”
The response: Your mother-in-law will continue to sit there by the side of the road, bleeding.
These guys I would pull over for.
The situation: Someone has just performed an insanely stupid maneuver on the road, such as swerve across six lanes of traffic just so they could get off on what they belatedly realize is the wrong exit and then swerve back through the gore point to get back to where they were.
What we do now: Lay on the horn for five-Mississippi.
What we need: A horn that screams “Driving privileges REVOKED, motherfucker!” and then a large electro-magnetic pulse disables the offending car.
The response: A horn in Andy Griffith or Angela Lansbury’s voice that says, “Huh? What’s that?”
I can't be late for Bingo!
The situation: You are a young, teenage male, and having arrived at your date’s house, wish to let it be known that you have arrived and that your date should leave the house now.
What we do now: A couple of lazy, pimply toots on the horn.
What we need: A horn that yells in a cracking, puberty-laden voice, “I’m here to pick up your daughter, but because I’m an awkward kid who hasn’t been taught manners and, in fact, spends most of my days masturbating to Victoria’s Secret catalogs, I’m too chickenshit to get out of the car and knock on the door.”
The response: A shotgun full of rock salt.
Alternately, the horn can say, "I'm here to fuck your daughter!" Either way, it's going to be met with a shotgun full of rock salt.
The situation: You’re young, drunk, and doing donuts in a snow-covered parking lot.
What we do now: Well, way back when, I’d just lay on the horn non-stop.
What we need: A horn that repeatedly announces one of the following: “I’m an asshole! I’m an asshole!”, “Take me to jail! Take me to jail!”, or “My name is Lindsay Lohan! My name is Lindsay Lohan!”
The response: Law enforcement and paparazzi.
Oh my God! You'd better not get, like, blood and stuff all over my grill!
The situation: (I’ve done this – Greg) You’re sitting at a light and start to take a left turn when some asshole absolutely lays on their extremely loud horn. You look around, but you don’t know who did it or why, and everyone else is looking round too. So you blow your horn to say, “Fuck you, whoever you are!” Then, ten minutes later, it happens again: Left turn, loud, long horn, mass confusion. Finally, you notice a noise coming from your steering column, and after you have yet another left-horn-what-the-fuck moment, you pull over and discover that your child has put a penny inside a crack in your steering wheel, which is completing the connection on the horn whenever you turn left.
What we do now: Drive down the road like an idiot, blaring the horn at yourself.
What we need: A horn that loudly announces when we get home, “You are fucking GROUNDED!”
The response: Tears
That's for making daddy act like a moron!
Haha. I agree we need an “ahem” clearing the throat horn. I wish we had a computer screen up front that we could type messages on and they would display in our back window. That way a nice driver who was daydreaming could simply type “sorry” and someone who is being tailgated could type FUCK YOU BUDDY I AM GOING SLOWER NOW ON PURPOSE JUST TO SPITE YOU AND YOUR ASSHOLE WAYS.
Or flags that would come up when someone cuts us off on the freeway or drifts into our lane so we could speed up and pass them and the flag would say YOUR MOTHER IS A CUNT or some such thing.
Or maybe just giant fists that come out our windows and punch people in the throat.
Or signs that tell old people that there is a 1.99 special at Denny’s today only and to get off the road right fucking now!
I actually thought about putting one of those scrolling LED message boxes in my back window, but I found that there is a law against that. Any externally facing lights that are neither headlights nor part of the taillight/ brake light assembly have to be amber and cannot spell out words. I guess the idea is to prevent abuse of lights to the point where you can’t see or don’t notice the very important lights you need to. Stupid common sense.
I thought “A couple of lazy, pimply toots on the horn” was hilarious. Until I got to the end, and you raised the bar again, sir.
Between you and The Rev today I’m about to break a rib.
For legal purposes, I should inform you that as a not-for-profit organization, I cannot be sued for bodily injury or acts of Dog.
You are killing me dead with your funny, funny genius.
I would GLADLY pay large amounts of American dollars I do not have in order to get a horn that toots I WILL FUCKING END YOU to all the dirtbags who drive the same speed right fucking next to each other so that you can’t pass either one.
I’m giving myself a stroke [and not the good kind] just thinking about this.
Oh yeah, we call them blockers, and they deserve to be forced off the road and into a canyon. Not that I would actually do that. (shifts eyes)
What about those fuckers who love to sit in your blind spot on the highway and nowhere else, forever–no matter what your speed?
They autopilot there invisibly, like you’re somehow towing them along until the ONE time you hesitate to shoulder-check, and then HOLY CRAP!! WHERE DID YOU COME FROM?!–you narrowly avoid death by moron.
I want side-mounted canons pointed right down at those diagonal spots so I can fire them off just after I signal, before I change lanes. Tired of shoulder-checking like paranoid owl.
Thank you, Santa.
What about those fuckers that pull right up next to you while you’re doing 85 and getting some road head from that (what you hope is a) girl you picked up at that truck stop, and sit there and watch? I HATE THOSE PEOPLE!
If not the ruler of the world the ruler of Luxembourg at least
The rudeness of some people gets me. You go out of your way to toot your horn at your mother-in-law and all you get in response is bleeding. The nerve
Exactly. I will give you her number. You can set her fucking straight.
I agree with That Guy. That sentence killed me! So so funny!
What?!?! I’m the only one who voted for free-cheese Fridays??
There you go, someone else just voted for it.
So I thought I had a comment, and then it turned out to be your last situation. Except it wasn’t a penny, it was my dad, driving my mom’s new car, and not realizing his hand was resting on a little button that was the car horn.
He was so freaking mad at the guy behind him, who he thought was the honker, that he put the car in park, let out a string of eff you’s, and almost got out of the car to beat this poor bewildered person’s ass. My mom finally clued him in to his stupidity. We still give him a hard time about that one.
That is awesome. I fell better now knowing I’m in such good company.