Appellant's Brief

Anton the Driver

I'm no sexist. But I'm sure you've all read the literature on the Woman Driver. And then there are some of us who have had the unfortunate experience of being cut, tail-gaited, tail-ended, or slowed down, by the Woman Driver.

I have discovered, after a series of interviews, surveys and eyewitness accounts, that the male driver population is squarely split in two when it comes to close encounters with this phenomenon. Men belonging to the first group would, after a near death experience with the Woman Driver, simply shake their head and forget about the whole episode. Those belonging to the other group are less forgiving. They would blow their horns (eight sustained blasts seem to be the norm), roll down the window, and shout expletives with such relish. Sometimes you would come across a guy who hasn't caught on with the latest trend - you would find this poor guy attempting to stare the Woman Driver to shame. In any case, I have learned that these two groups (three if you count the dumb schmuck who thinks the Woman Driver gives a shit) are not mutually exclusive. One could, depending on his mood and the general traffic condition, oscillate from one group to another.

This is how I was able to graduate from the second group to the first.

I drive fast. I don't know why. It's instinctive. So I get annoyed every time a slow moving car blocks my path. In such cases, I honk once, and the driver normally moves to the slow lane. But there are exceptionally stupid drivers that hog the road, staying in the middle of the street without a care in the world. So I honk once. Nothing. I honk again. Still nothing. As soon as the opposite lane is clear, I pass through. And there she is. The Woman Driver. And I would instinctively say, whether I'm alone in the car or with company (but never in the presence of another Woman Driver), "pu***g-ina, babae!"

One lazy afternoon, my 2 year old son, Anton, was driving his red Little Tikes car, the one that came with a gas pump. His whole body leaned towards the wheel, his eyes intently fixed on the road. Naturally, car sounds and traffic noises sputtered from his lips.

"Beep! Beep!" as he pummeled the wheel with his hand.

"Brooooom," now shifting to second gear.

"Beeeep! Beeeep!" his hand now balled into a fist, his forehead knotted with concentration.

Then "tutang bae," he says, shaking his head.

Pleaded by Appellant on Tuesday, August 09, 2005 @ 3:55 PM with 0 Objections