Driving

Anyone making their morning commute on an interstate highway knows full well that douche bags are a very punctual people. The verve and determination of a bag ten minutes behind schedule counts among the most awe inspiring of phenomena of nature. The owl swoops in the blackness of night to pounce on the unsuspecting field mouse. The salmon struggles upstream against the raging current to spawn, and later, to perish. The douche bag swerves and speeds through traffic, coming within mere whispers of the cars around him.

To a douche bag, if you’re not four minutes and three seconds early you’re four minutes and three seconds late, and that is why every inch of space in front of a douche bag’s car is vitally important. But unlike other drivers that careen across the road oblivious to the consequences of their actions (see: “The Asian Handbook”, Chapter 6 “Driving: What is This Thing and How Do I Make it Go?”), douche bags are in full control of their vehicles at all times.

Bags have an innate temporal and spatial awareness that allows them to guide their alloy rims breathlessly around other cars. As with any master of his trade, however, a douche bag must always practice his craft. To improve your driving game, try these simple exercises:

• Duct tape a brick to your dominant hand. If you can’t shift, steer, tune the radio and flick off the mother of four in your rear view using only your free hand, how are you going to work the celly with your boys on the Hill to hit up Indebleu for some bottle service?
• Drive exclusively with your peripheral vision. Turn your head from one side to the other, always keeping your nose perpendicular to your direction of travel. Your central vision should only be reserved for peering into passing tanning salons and staring down slower drivers as you pass them from the right shoulder.
• Do calf raises to build up your accelerator muscles. If you aren’t hitting 45 mph from one stop light to the next 100 yards away, you might as well exit your vehicle and step into oncoming traffic.

Most importantly, a douche bag needs to have a certain attitude that allows him to own the road. To get the best insight into the mind of a driving bag, let’s listen to their words:

“I have places to be. I’m not satisfied until I’m so close to the car in front of me I can’t see their license plate.” Brodie L., Acura TL S, Cherry Hill, NJ.

“I have two gears: fast and faster. And reverse.” Jihan H., BMW M5, Chevy Chase, MD.

“What is this thing and how do I make it go?” P. Nguyen, Toyota RAV4, Annandale, VA.

“My Duke vanity license plate says, “DEVILZ” for a reason. I’m a f*cking devil in my Z and any minivan, Durango, whatever…they f#cking know it. Sometimes I’ll pass a soccer mom on my way to Gold’s, then I’ll get in front of her, slow down until she is right behind me, and then boom. I’m gone. All she hears is the f*cking roar of my aftermarket exhaust tip.” Chanceworth “Chip” K., Nissan 350Z, Potomac, MD.