The 5 worst passengers to have in your car
We've all met them: the passengers who make every drive a trip to hell. Whether it’s constant nagging, frenzied screaming or incessant poking - they were put on this earth to ruin your driving chi.
But who’s the worst?
Usually your mum or your granny. The Screamer might not even be a driver, but she’s sure as heck that you’re driving too fast, too recklessly, too something.
You could be the safest driver in the world and The Screamer would still grip the door handle like she’s going to bail at any second. Very annoying, and not great for your decision-making either.
The Backseat Driver
They've driven in all conditions, across every kind of terrain. They were once in a car chase with Jack Bauer and they've got a black belt in parallel parking.
So it’s surprising how little help The Backseat Driver is when they’re seated next to you. If you listen to their advice, you’ll likely end up in the car park of some abandoned bingo hall in eastern Ontario.
When you were aiming for Windsor.
The Boy Racer
He’s got it in for Porsches and he never met a Ferrari he didn't want to race. This guy may be nice as pie on the street, but put him in a four-wheeled vehicle and he thinks he’s Lewis Hamilton.
So Lewis Sham-ilton sees a car moving up next to you at the lights and suddenly, it’s on. He’s poking at your consciousness, daring you to show the other driver who’s boss.
The Boy Racer might think it’s just a bit of fun, but driving at ridiculous speeds in an area that has traffic lights (especially pedestrian crossings) is about as idiotic as it gets.
And taking driving advice from someone who believes a 2001 Fiat Panda can beat a Lotus Elise? Definitely not a good call.
When you were clean and hadn't been sleeping in mud for 3 days, driving home from a festival in Woodstock didn't seem like such a bad idea.
But now it’s happening to you and surprise, surprise: your buddies are all asleep. You’re sitting there, seething, as they catch some Zs after their heavy weekend - and you ferry them home to their moms.
You don’t necessarily MEAN to switch the radio suddenly to Heavy Metal FM but it serves The Sleepers right for abandoning you as you do an ace job of rescuing everyone from a field of burnt tents.
20 minutes ago your car smelled of the pine air freshener the mechanic thoughtfully hung on your rearview mirror. Now it smells of kebab and broken dreams.
The Drunk is not only incoherently rambling about how much he loves the girl he met tonight; he’s also looking worryingly queasy. Descending into tears now, you know he’s seconds away from kissing you on the face - or being sick in your glove box.
Being the designated driver is a noble office and deserves recognition in the form of money, cake and decoration by the governor general. You’re not going to get any of that, but you can certainly make The Drunk pay tomorrow when you point out that the girl he met was a bouncer called Tyrone.