One of the Reasons Why I Hate Boston: The Driving

I hate Boston. I’ve lived in the Greater Boston Area for about 7 years now, and I think I’ve hated Boston for about 6 years, 364 days, 23 hours, and 45 minutes of those 7 years. Basically within 15 minutes of driving in the city, I knew I would hate this shit-hole.

I know some of you are going to say, “I love it here.” OK…I’m writing about one of the reasons why I (<-notice the pronoun I used) hate it here.

There are a plethora of reasons, but for now I’ll focus on the one that pisses me off the most: driving in this goddamn city SUCKS!! For those of you who have never had the misfortune of driving in Boston, let me link a few videos that might give you a taste of what it’s like driving here:

Just a taste people. Some of you readers at home might have a heart condition.

Let’s first talk about the layout of the city. To say that the city was based on cow paths would be giving it too much credit. I think what happened was an early settler slit his wrists because he lived in Boston, and some wicked pissah Bostonian got offended and used the victim’s trickling blood as a road-map for the city out of spite (native Bostonians are that hardcore about their city). There is NO rhyme or reason to the roadways here. You might have to exit right to make a left turn that splits into 3 different lefts, and you better be sure of which path you want to go or you’re sure to have some dick in an oversized SUV driving up your asshole.

Which brings me to my next point, every driver in Boston is a complete asshole, including myself. I have to be. It’s survival. Either I adapt and become that which I hate, or I die! This is how we got the term masshole. The golden rule of driving in Boston is if you hesitate for one second, you’re dead. The only way to drive safely in Boston is to out-asshole the drivers around you. When I first moved to Massachusetts 7 years ago, my first dance with death on the roadways was obeying a yield sign. There was traffic on the road I was about to enter, so I stopped to let it pass. I then hear tires screeching behind me and I had to perform some Evel Knievel shit in my Hyundai Elantra to avoid getting ass-ended. Why? Because the yield sign in Massachusetts means to floor the gas pedal and give zero fucks in the process. In the rest of the United States a yield sign means to let the existing traffic pass THEN you enter. Not so in Boston. Also, don’t expect drivers to clear an intersection before a light changes, turn signals to be used, or to be in the correct turning lane when they turn.

Oh wait. About the lanes. Good luck finding that shit defined on the pavement. While driving in Boston, you’ll squint at the road and try to figure out, Is this one lane or two?; however, while you’re trying to figure that out don’t violate the golden rule I mentioned earlier about hesitation. Lanes will shift from one to two, or two to one, or one to three, and there’s no markings to indicate the change. You’ll only find out when someone loses their shit behind you because you’re driving in the middle of what you think is one lane when it is really two.

Lost in Boston? I would tell you to use a GPS or stop and ask for directions, but yeah you’re fucked until you can find a way to jimmy yourself to a major highway, just so you can have the opportunity to press the reset button and try again. The problem with a GPS is that it will tell you to make a slight left. BUT! Do you make a slight left? An immediate left? A slightly less slight left? or merge left? Now you’re trying to compare your GPS screen to the clusterfuck road in front of you. Furthermore, due to The Big Dig, many parts of Boston have layers, and the GPS cannot recognize what layer you’re driving on. And again, don’t forget the golden rule of hesitation while driving in Boston. This could be further exacerbated if you’re using an iPhone. Siri is a dumb bitch; just sayin’.

The problem with stopping and asking for directions, is that the locals probably a) don’t know their way around outside their immediate commute to work, and b) how the hell could they even begin to describe it?! “Oh head down Storrow Drive…”

…and another tourist just died trying to remember directions given by a local.

Parking. Just bring 20s and be ready to make it rain. Oh, and by the way, congratulations you made it to your destination without dying. You just unlocked a major achievement point in your life. Now good luck getting the fuck out.