Toledo Tales

A Guest editorial by Frank Schumacher

Schumacher discussing an illegal turn with a fellow driver

You know, I’m a pretty decent guy. I go to work everyday, I take care of my family, and I pay my fair share of taxes—without bitching and moaning like every other Joe Six-Pack. But as a lifelong resident of Toledo, I have come to a disturbing realization: everyone drives like an asshole but me.

Let’s start simple, shall we? I live on a nice residential street where the speed limit is 20 MPH. We have signs all around that say “PLEASE DRIVE SLOW—CHILDREN AT PLAY.” Hell, there’s even a deaf kid across the street, and he gets his own sign: “DEAF CHILD AWARENESS ZONE.” But every night, like clockwork, these goddamn thugs zip up and down my lane at 50 MPH blasting their bitches n’ hoes, glocks n’ dope noise pollution. Maybe when I run out of the house in my boxers and blast some shotgun shells into their pimped-out Impalas, they’ll think twice about whose ghetto.

Don’t get me going on rush hour, though. Someone ought to tell these pencil-neck jerkoffs about an amazing invention called the TURN SIGNAL, and that if they use it, they are at a reduced risk of getting their jaw broken…by me. And by the way, I’m glad someone invented brakes, but these goddamn phantom brakers—who tap ‘em just to screw up the flow of traffic—need their balls smashed with a tire-iron.

Which brings me to city construction. Look, people—we all have to deal with it. So there is no FUCKING need, when three lanes narrow down to two, for Johnny Cellphone in his 2006 Escalade to zoom past on the shoulder just to get a few car-lengths closer to his destination. Pal, someone ought to rape your wife with a mud shark, make a home movie of it, and give it to your kids as a Christmas present.

The bottom line is we all have to share the roads, so don’t be an asshole: your health may depend on it.