Pre-pandemic, I worked in San Francisco and lived across the bay. There’s a steep toll to get over the bridge into SF, but it’s reduced by about 2/3 or so if you have 3 or more people in your car. And you get to use the express lanes, so you don’t have to wait in the toll lines like everyone else, and the metering lights prioritize you. Cue casual carpool. If you’re a driver, you go to one of a few designated spots, pick up a few passengers, drive fast across the bridge, and drop everyone in another designated spot downtown. If you’re a passenger, you just show up, get in line, and get in a car when it’s your turn. Sounds sketchy as hell, actually works really well. I got chauffeured to work in some *very nice* cars.
If you ride as a passenger long enough, there are some cars you learn to recognize and decide not to get into. It’s different for everyone. You learn which car owners typically have back seats covered in dog fur, or which people play music you hate, or whatever.
For me, it was a white Honda Fit. The first time I encountered it, I got in behind the driver. A woman, probably no more than 5 feet tall, she had the seat all the way pushed *back*, the seat back reclined so far that she couldn’t reach the steering wheel. Whatever, it’s a long wait in line. But the Fit isn’t a big car, so she’d taken up all the leg room in the back seat. When I got in behind her, I — also not a particular tall person — was so scrunched up that my knees dug into the back of the drivers’ seat, which she then had the nerve to complain about.
She was also eating a bowl of cereal. A huge bowl. Ramen sized at least, white, made of ceramic, full of cereal and milk, metal spoon and everything. Again, something I thought she’d take care of before setting off to handle rush hour traffic on the Bay Bridge.
BUT NO.
She put the bowl on her lap, did nothing whatsoever to the seat position, and proceeded to drive away. Now, I’d said she couldn’t reach the steering wheel and this was true. So in order to drive, she used the wheel to pull herself up and she clung to it the entire 30 minute drive into the city.
At this point, I must mention that I race cars. It sounds like I’m being pretentious as hell, and I probably am, but the thing is when you learn how to drive fast you spend a lot of time talking about driving posture. To drive a car, you want your body to be as supported as possible, as upright as possible, and probably no more than about 12-24 inches from the steering wheel, depending on how long your arms are. Your arms should be slightly bent and they shouldn’t be taking any of your weight. There are lots of reasons for all of this but the one relevant for today’s discussion is that this puts you in the best possible position to see down the road as far as possible and notice hazards and avoid them. By supporting yourself with your seat, you leave your arms free to steer suddenly and precisely should the need arise.
Also, the Bay Area is ground zero for distracted driving. Assholes texting, watching videos, making video calls, all while driving their cars at 80 mph.
So: this woman couldn’t see down the road to anticipate accidents and couldn’t steer out of the way to avoid them. And she wasn’t paying attention.
Also, in racing, you secure absolutely everything in the car because in a crash, anything not nailed down is going to become a missile. Ceramic cereal bowls for instance.
The drive objectively fine, but I spent it in physical pain, trying to keep my knees out of her back — did I mention I’d had recent knee surgery? I’d had recent knee surgery — and mental anguish imagining all the ways I was going to end up dead and covered in froot loops.
It was fine, I said nothing, no harm no foul etc, but I also decided it would be best for both of us if I never got in that car again, so I didn’t.
