Hell is Other People's Cars

Because of trivially complicated housing circumstances, Woofy and I found ourselves without a bed the other night. So we decided to take the afternoon off, rent a U-Haul, and drive to Ikea. Usually we take the free weekend shuttle with the rest of the plebs but this time we figured we'd be getting one over on the man because it was a weekday, so the crowds would be thin. We'd select our mattress (Sultan Forester), pick up some additional items (Eksjo, Jonisk) and be back in Manhattan in a jiffy. Little did we know that the density of crowds at Ikea is inversely proportional to the density of traffic on the NJ Turnpike.Now I realize there was some controversy the last time I tried to give advice on this blog, but I beseech you, dear readers, pay heed this time.Do not, under any circumstances, drive to Ikea. Do not try to beat the system by driving on your own in the middle of the week. The system will beat you. It will beat you soundly. It will steal your soul and leave you sobbing openly on the NJ turnpike, muttering: "I can't do this. I can't do this. I can't do this."Or maybe it's just me.I've been out of the country for a while, but I was wholly unaware of the apparent zombie attack on the road network of New Jersey. I was blissfully ignorant that it had become de rigueur to post erroneous signs with meaninglessly directional arrows, or to permit roadside trees to grow so large they blocked signage for arguably significant landmarks like, say, the Lincoln %^#$^& Tunnel!Not that I will ever attempt the odyssey again, but my New Jersey native friend, Gidge, informs me that I made some classic rookie mistakes. Among them:When you are trapped in the left lane and need to move right in order to exit, DO NOT SLOW DOWN AND INDICATE. This will only encourage cars to speed up and pass you on the right. The way to jump from the far left to the far right lane is to, and I'm paraphrasing here, just nudge your way in and let the other cars deal with it. If this can be accomplished while applying mascara and/or reading the newspaper even better.I have never understood roadrage with such lamentable clarity as I did on that day. Why do people live in places that require them to drive? Are they all masochists? When I dropped off the U-haul and hailed a cab to take me home, I almost kissed the driver. It's best to leave some things to professionals.At any rate, I am happy to report that Sultan Forester, Eksjo, Jonisk and I are all getting along swimmingly and the next time I venture off the island, I will do so in the backseat of someone else's vehicle.