According to some learned researchers at the University of Malta, we motoring commuters waste – on average – one hour per week stuck in traffic. Balderdash! I reckon I spend at least an hour a day banged-up in a queue of non-mobile vehicles, that often stretcESh back and front for kilometres on end.
Oh yes, I’ve tried the public transport option and I’ll try it again... when the powers-that-be decide to enforce the buses-only stricture in the lanes allegedly reserved for their exclusive use. And buses-only shouldn’t really mean: buses, cars, vans, trucks and even horses and carts... all of which I have recently seen snarling up these lanes.
But OK, let’s say the experts are right and we do only waste 60 minutes a week wedged bumper to bumper on Malta’s highways. I’ve worked it out – and assuming an average person drives for 50 years... 40 of them getting to and from work, that means that over a 40-year period we spend precisely 2,080 hours, or 12-and-a-half weeks immobile in traffic.
Ridiculous!
And it’s only going to get worse, so... with my public services hat on, I should like to give you some ideas on what to do while commuting at a snail’s pace to and from your job during the morning and evening rush hours.
With my public services hat on, I should like to give you some ideas on what to do while commuting at a snail’s pace to and from work
Sitting at the wheel texting is not a good idea. Just last month I witnessed a – thankfully minor – shunt caused by a driver stuttering along in near gridlock while texting on his smartphone. Yes, you guessed it: he went straight into the back of the guy in front.
Cue major altercation... only slightly moderated by the fact that the texting driver insisted on finishing his text before engaging with the irate victim of his aberration. By which time the shunted driver had cooled down somewhat. So texting is a definite no, no.
If there are two or more of you in the car, each time you shudder to a halt in traffic, you can play I-spy. This is great fun and players can get quite creative after a while.
For instance: “I spy with my little eye... something beginning with o and e. The answer is, of course, overheating engine. And you can – and certainly will – get hours of endless fun playing this spotting game.
Another favourite game of mine I have called: pissing-off fellow commuters. Not a particularly snappy title I’ll admit, but apposite nonetheless. This can take several forms.
One particularly effective version is where I glide up beside another car... in my shades and with a baseball cap pulled down to hide much of my face; whereupon I pretend to talk into my sleeve, intimating to the vehicle alongside, that I am describing him/her and their car to an unseen third party. Stationary in traffic I can crane my neck to read their number-plate and the colour and make of the ‘offending’ motor. I also mime giving a description of the driver into my sleeve.
Then, as a final flourish... I point knowingly at the poor driver and – hopefully – stutter forward to torment another victim.
I particularly love the looks of panic on the other driver’s face.
Yet more simple enjoyment can be experienced by playing the adjustable seat game.
This entails staggering up beside another car and then – unseen by this motorist and with one non-visible hand – intermittently adjusting my seat to various angles from one which makes me lean right forward to the other extreme, where I am practically prone.
You’d be amazed at the funny looks this invokes.
Probably my all-time favourite gridlock game is the one where I sit in immobile traffic and desperately gesticulate to the man (always a man, don’t try this with a woman driver... they are paranoid enough as it is) stopped in his vehicle beside you.
The game is to make him think there is something wrong with his vehicle. I wave and point until he gets the message and – on numerous occasions – even alights from his car to check.
I hope these few suggestions prove useful tomorrow morning as your motor grinds to a halt in traffic.