I don’t know. I couldn’t come up with another appropriate term for these people. Does the term bring anything to mind? No? OK…

Cutter-Allowers (“CA,” for the rest of this ramble) are those people who, when you’re in an extensive line of traffic, waiting for the light to change in your favor, allow one or more people to exit from an adjoining street or Home Depot parking lot ahead of you.

Inevitably, this occurs when you are in the greatest hurry, and also, inevitably, it causes you to miss the green portion of the cycle aimed at you.

What is most irritating is that most of the Cutters (the benefactors of the CAs) have only just pulled up to the intersection of the street you’re on, and the place from which they are exiting. Unlike you, who have been sitting through 27 or more cycles of the traffic signal that only allows 4 cars through before giving its favors to the much-higher-volume cross street, which remains that alluring shade of chartreuse for what seems like 10 times the amount of time your light was of similar tone and hue.

Wait, 10 times? What am I saying? Only 4 cars from your lane are allowed to exit the queue-hell in which trapped. The perpendicular lane runs through at least 500 vehicles of all shapes and sizes. And heaven help you if you’re behind a semi/dumptruck/scooter/portable-toilet-delivery-truck/septic tank pumper, who’ll only get up enough of a head of steam to inch up one car’s length before the light reverts to the inevitable sanguine.

And it’s not like a 4-way stop, where the person to the right takes precedent over the person to his left, if both arrived at the exact same moment. That’s a one-to-one situation, as opposed to the currently-described one Cutter versus the ever-increasing train of legitimate drivers in your lane.


The vehicles of these exceedingly irritable good Samaritans CAs, who give precedence to newly-appearing delayees over your self-evident right to escape first, are usually emblazoned with various tree-hugging hemp-wearing Woodstock-fondly-remembering “I Voted For The Most Left Leaning Liberal Douche That Appeared On The Ticket And Even If That Candidate Lost I Keep The Sticker On My Car For At Least 3 Years Post-Election” stickers – most often appliquéd/festooned over most of a Volvo (again, for a later ramble…).

Simply put, it’s an “us” vs. “them” situation. “Us” is everyone queued up to escape Dante’s Traffic Inferno. “Them” are the weasels trying to break into the next higher plane of existence with you. And only when one of your fellow “us”es decides to turn Benedict Arnold on you, and convert to a “them,” does this sort of thing happen.

That “us-turned-them” lowbrow does not have the RIGHT to abdicate the throne in favor of the alien invaders. The “us” responsibility is to his fellow “us”ers – not to go all Edward VIII on his subjects just because he spots Wallis Simpson trying to cut in line.

The way it should work is this – those who wait the longest have dibs on the first verdigris lantern. Then, once all of those folks are done, the Cutter can follow up the rear. It is not the Cutter’s gods-given right to cut in the cafeteria line ahead of everyone else, especially since he was hitting on Mary Jane at his locker instead of lining up for meat loaf with his fellow classmates.

Think of it this way. You’re at the Piggly Wiggly, and there are only 2 lanes open (there are 12 actual checkout lanes, but all the other cashiers are either on break, or are cleaning up on aisle 7 after that horrendous caramel-ice-cream-topping-jar-fell-from-the-top-shelf incident). You have been waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting, while customer after customer refuses to pay with their debit card, insisting on writing a check, and only waiting until the cashier has completely rung up all of their merchandise to even begin writing out the check (those people should be shot). You’re almost up to the point where you can grab a National Enquirer to occupy your brain while you wait the next 30 minutes, as you forgot to pick up your Wall Street Journal before you left the house that morning.

Then, out of nowhere, a 97 year old lady (whose hairdresser evidently was running a sale on azure tinting fluids that week) approaches with her overflowing procurement palanquin. And, without missing a beat – or checking with you or your fellow languishers – the 98 year old lady in front of you (who evidently went to the same hairdresser, and whose shopping cart is suspiciously emblazoned with multiple “I Voted For The Most Left Leaning Liberal Douche That Appeared On The Ticket And Even If That Candidate Lost I Keep The Sticker On My Car For At Least 3 Years Post-Election” stickers) says “Oh, please, get in line ahead of me.”

Now, having checked the statutes, I am fairly certain that you would be within your rights to discharge a projectile with malicious intent at the cerulean coiffeured offending bitty in front of you with no adverse legal consequences (check with your own attorney for clarification here).

I believe this is an apples-to-apples comparison. You wait your turn – notice how patiently I said that? – until everyone else who was there first is finished. Then you can go.

It’s as simple as that.

Do you even want me to start in on the Double-Dipper Cutter-Allowers? The ones who allow not just one Cutter into your lane, ahead of you, but is so saintly as to allow the 3 or 4 drivers who just picked up their Double-R Bar Burgers and a holster of Fries (I know, Roy Rogers aren’t around anymore, but you take my meaning) to stream uninterrupted ahead of them?

Can you imagine the nuclear devastation that would be justifiably heaped upon that CA???


c'est moi