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?
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.
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!”
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.”
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.
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?”
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.
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.
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