Buyer's remorse

We all knew this day would come. The day when I regretted buying my Civic. Show of hands though, who knew it'd be because of the sound the horn makes?

That's right.

The horn.

I'm not a violent person by nature. Sure I can mouth off when provoked and "accidentally" kicked Becca in the head that one time, but 50% of the time my gut reaction is not to strike. That is, unless I'm on the road. Suburban driving brings out the worse in me and it's like idiot drivers are bred here.

The two left lanes on north bound Antioch have been left turn lanes only, to west bound 435 for easily the last 2 years. Still, at least once a week there is some jackhole that "misses" the 18,000 signs telling them they are in a turn lane. Said jackhole then proceeds to hangout in the middle of the intersection, waits until I'm driving over the bridge at 40 mph and then tries to cut back into the lane, right in front of me.

My natural reaction to this is to ride their bummer and lay on my horn until it's time for me to turn into my condo complex in about 50 feet. How else will they learn?

With the Stratus, the sound produced by my horn matched what I was feeling and yelling inside my car. If that feeling were represented as a cartoon character it'd be Bluto, from Popeye.

However, in the Civic I now sound like Wade the Duck, from Garfield and Friends, wetting himself.

If the Dukes of Hazzard can have a custom horn, then so will I.

So. Will. I.