There are cities and towns where drivers are known for being exceptionally vicious. New York City would be one such example. Los Angeles would likely be another.
Spending time in Edina, I have become most fascinated with the driving skills that the fair denizens of that city posess. In the past two months, I have seen so many variations and interpretations of what and where a right-turn lane is, that I have drive in a constant state of preparation for imminent impact at any time, anywhere.
The people of Edina, empowered by large bank accounts and and similarly large SUVs (think: Urban Jungle theme) have a similar sort of “Suvival of the Fittest” vibe going on. When you hit the road, you can’t enjoy the music on the radio much less look at the gigantic shops on France Ave, you have to put your (excuse my french) bitch-face on and be ready to roll over anyone who dares to cross your path. Grocery store parking lots? Check. Mall parking lots? Check. France Avenue when driving in the right lane? Double check. Trying to get on 494? YOU HAD BETTER WATCH YOURSELF. The ONLY places this seems to abate are when one is parking underneath the Galleria by Gabbert’s OR, when one is trying to get onto Highway 100. This is likely attributable to the fact that these people do not actually live in Edina.
