Just too rude to merge

Bret Easton Ellis began his novel, "Less Than Zero," with a simple declarative sentence that prompted several hundred words of direct obsession and a few hundred pages of indirect dissolution: "People are afraid to merge on freeways in Los Angeles."

It would be a happy accident if some people in Hampton Roads failed to merge because they were afraid to merge, but the answer is more mundane than that. Some folks are just too rude to merge.

It's not just us and here; it's everyone and everywhere. It's also a problem that has grown substantially worse since Ellis wrote those words 26 years ago, and for completely different reasons.

Like anyone who commutes, my drive involves a series of impositions on other people moving from place to place. Every few minutes, I have to somehow find a way to fit into traffic, to combine my travel with those of hundreds of others.

In a few seconds, we have to figure out how to get out of each others' way and come together. It's a delicate dance, and it takes both attention to your surroundings and understanding of the impact your actions will have on others.

And many modern drivers utterly fail to do it, either willfully or thoughtlessly.

An example: Each evening, I get on westbound I-264 via Market Street near MacArthur Center. Two lanes are compelled to combine into one. Ordinarily, that happens with ease and consideration, with cars alternating into the single lane.

But about once a week, somebody decides he (or she) won't stand for that. Somebody takes offense at the entire notion of cooperation, not to mention coordination. These drivers bull forward, forcing the people immediately behind them to brake and compensate. And then the people behind them. And so on.

The resulting snarl brings the whole train of mergers to a halt, backing up traffic onto St. Paul's Boulevard, creating a mess for hundreds of people just trying to get home.

All because one person was rude. Maybe he was having a bad day. Maybe she was on the phone. Maybe he was fiddling with the radio. Maybe she was simply being thoughtless. Maybe he thinks the evening commute is qualification for Talladega.

(It would be tempting, here, to compare and contrast the genders and their driving habits. But I couldn't find a generalization that explained more than this morning's mishaps. Men and women, in almost equal measure, are nasty drivers, capable of equally bad behavior. Men, it must be said, are less likely to allow somebody to break into a line of traffic. I have no idea why, but I suspect if we could figure that out, we could end war.)

I don't have any idea why some drivers are ruder than others. Maybe it was how she was brought up. Maybe a considerate driver broke his heart. I honestly don't care. They have to live with their own consciences and demons. I care that the result of their rudeness is that everyone else suffers. Waits. Gets home a little later. Becomes a little more fed up with his fellow man and woman.

That's the consequence when somebody pretends not to see the person attempting to merge. It's what happens when somebody switches lanes without a signal, or without a thought about who will have to make way. It's what happens when somebody tailgates, or drives 10 mph under the speed limit in the passing lane, gabbing into a cellphone. Or stops on the ramp because he doesn't know how to merge.

It's what happens when somebody can't see far enough to understand the effects of her own actions.

And he wonders why everyone is honking.

It's the Friday of Memorial Day weekend. The first travel holiday of the summer. Strangers will be all over our highways. Many will be driving badly. Getting lost. On the phone with Grandma. The same will be true of some of our neighbors.

Let's try something different. Instead of getting frustrated by their rudeness, instead of yelling at the windshield or gesturing with a certain finger, let's try to set an example. Let's help them find their way. Let's smile and wave and show them how to merge.

Donald Luzzatto is The Pilot's editorial page editor. Email: donald.luzzatto@pilotonline.com.