u/aDrunkenError

I moved here from Greenwich because the loft deals were disgusting. Like morally irresponsible not to. You people were basically giving away exposed brick. I said, “Sure, Detroit, I’ll give you a shot.” Biggest mistake of my life. This city is completely unlivable.

First of all, nobody explained that “Motor City” was not just branding. I thought it was, like, a historical callback or a nickname. I didn’t realize every single person here was going to behave like they’re personally trying to qualify for the Gran Prix at 8:14 in the morning.

Every day I get in my Mach-E (yes, a Ford, thank you, I’m integrating) throw on BlueCruise at 75, slide into the left lane, and settle in because I’m not about to be doing all that barbaric lane changing like some kind of outdoor person. I’m trying to have a commute, not participate in the Indianapolis 500. I put on Call Her Daddy, take one sip of my oat milk match macchiato cold brew, and before the intro is even over some absolute lunatic in a rusted-out F-150 with one working headlight is six inches off my bumper like I personally killed the auto industry.

And then and this is the part that I still cannot psychologically process they go around me on the right.

On the right. The nerve right?

Like a criminal, a pirate. Like we are in Fallujah and traffic laws have become more of a suggestion-based framework.

And the craziest part? Even when I speed up, purely to defend the principle of the thing, they still pass me. Which feels targeted, feels mean, frankly feels like bullying.

And don’t even get me started on stop signs. Nobody here approaches a stop sign like they have anything to lose. In Greenwich, a stop sign is a negotiation. A social contract. Here? People either roll through it like they’re late to deliver a kidney, or they stop for half a second and then launch out like the stop sign insulted their mother.

I had a guy behind me honk because I did a full, thoughtful stop and looked around to take in the neighborhood. Sorry for being community-minded? Sorry I’m not treating residential streets like a rally stage through the Balkans?

And the aggression is unbelievable. I’ll be driving in a perfectly normal, courteous, left-lane way, holding an already speedy 75, 76 if I’m feeling dangerous, and suddenly everybody acts like I’m the problem. Me? The one in the silent electric crossover, podcast on, climate control immaculate, trying to bring some civilization to this rolling demolition derby?

Detroiters drive like every trip to Target is the final scene of a Jason Statham movie.

There’s this psychotic energy here where everyone seems to think the point of driving is to arrive immediately. As if the road is for transportation and not for quietly centering yourself while occupying the most convenient lane.

I’m sorry, but some of us were raised to believe the left lane is for people with places to be emotionally, not just physically.

At this point, I’m honestly trying to adapt, I am, I bought the car. I say “Lahser” correctly. I complained about the Illitches twice. I even started saying “what up doe” as a greeting to my black friends. But every time I get on the road it feels like the entire city is trying to haze me for having hazard lights and a graduate degree.

And I swear to God, if one more person in a Charger with window tint darker than a state secret materializes behind me going 93 in a 55 like they’re on a federal mission, I’m moving back to Greenwich, where traffic is honest.