Vasiliy Gulin

Chief redactor of the "Nasha versiya" newspaper

The issue of sons of bitches staying in line still remains open. On the eve of the centenary of its original formulation nothing has changed although admittedly we are now addressing it on a innovative level.
A simple example of a traffic light. And, let's assume for the sake of an argument, that it allows driving to the left. Everyone knows how the situation develops but I will remind you just in case. First, in the left lane a queue of drivers is formed who for some reason honor the traffic rules. Parallel to them a line is formed consisting of the cars that simply need to make the left turn. As soon as the green light turns on – on the right to the second line the raw of cars gets formed driven by the most cunning and agile nimble drivers. I stopped on the figure of three columns just for space-saving - in fact I know places where this tactics gets cloned forming four and sometimes five traffic flows.
Another case – a banal "red" light and the lanes area allowed driving "right ahead". The number of lanes is, say, two or three. The frint cars are parked in more or less regular formation, although there is an inexplicable desire of many drivers to occupy the left-hand side lane. Okay, the cars are waiting for green light. The second echelon doesn’t look well organized. And then there is always a driver who needs badly to take over. The one, who is ready, folding mirrors, to squeeze through the curb, to use sidewalk, to move between cars ending up in front of the column in an awkward position. The effect of this maneuver is significantly multiplied when performed by a half-dead Lada "classics": the example evidently shows how slowly progresses the national auto industry falling short of reaching not one hundred but even sixty miles an hour.
You know, first of all, there is absolutely no social or economic predictability in who is willing to misbehave in this mean manner on road. Second, and this is surprising, in lines of people queuing to enter a shop, office, or a nightclub, this phenomenon is almost nonexistent. Most likely close encounters do not stimulate the situation to exacerbate. But most importantly, I do not mind taking a spell of everyday rudeness. That is, I'm normal person, and I do not plan to wring my hands and pronounce something salutary about respecting individuals or observe human rights. I am speaking of the other thing; I touch on the elementary logic, self-interest that oddly enough, occasionally coincides with the public interest.
To begin with let’s agree that attempts of mass turning and U-turning create an incredible mess. Pull the honest line at a distance of two miles it will take less time to make the maneuver is compared to the situation of cars following a Brownian motion pattern. Another, even more important thing: from the point of view of psychiatric doctors 70 percent of you, dear readers, are unbalanced nervous people. (Nothing personal this is pure statistics). And you know what happens to you, the quiet urban loonies, when you encounter someone’s shameless and totally unpunished behavior? You get to the final crazy state. You act like loose cannon making weird maneuvers to revenge the mucker, to take him over or to cut. It’s alright if the scene ends in a fistfight or even hand guns - in the end, the settlement takes place between those who elected to confront. On many occasions I saw that in attempt of road self-regulation enthusiasts bang on the neighbors’ cars or sped on the oncoming traffic lane. On my eyes a half witted Robin Hood first hooked up a stroller on pedestrian crossing (fortunately empty). Then he blocked the way to the high-handed bastard who insulted the proud owner of Ford Mondeo parking his Daewoo Nexia in violation of traffic rules and road marking.
Once again, I'm not a Tolstoyan. And in this, or any similar case, I get the only clearly formulated desire. I will name it using the conventional word: I want to intervene. And I do not intervene. Not because I am a faint-hearted or coward person. My logic is very simple: I just want to keep driving rather than spending time on the fist fight, or generating certificate to document mechanical damage to the vehicle sustained during the struggle for justice. But this is the secondary thought. If we, or at least our children master the trick of standing in queues, these issues would simply disappear.