No, that's not the name of a hockey team. It's the name of Montreal drivers. I've been in a lot of cities in my life, but Montreal takes the cake as the city containing the worst drivers in the world.
Sure, Calcutta was bad, but what do you do when you have no traffic rules to begin with? Mayhem, but civilized mayhem. Kinshasa, Congo -- same thing. Never a single incident except boarding a crowded bus on a hot day and a lack of deodorant.
Dakar, Africa -- despite one harrowing ride with a drunken French guy, nothing. Nope. Not even close.
Osaka, Japan (and these are all places I lived in, wasn't a visitor to) -- whoa, make a wrong lane change and the police would be on you like stink on shit.
Paris: motorcycle chaos, pedestrians everywhere, but again, not a single incident (though I swore up and down that there would be about 100 motorcycle-related deaths per day by observing their driving).
Just how DO these people get their licenses? Out of a Rice Crispies box, or as a special offer with Chicken McNuggets?
Because they sure didn't earn them. It is extremely hazardous to drive on the streets of Montreal. Today we almost died. Brigitte and I were just minding our business, driving down a major thoroughfare in the right direction at the right speed, when out of nowhere, a minivan takes an illegal U-turn in the middle of the street and almost slams right into Brigitte's door. If she hadn't had the quickness to swerve to avoid him, she no doubt would have been badly injured and the car would have been a total loss.
Then the guy has the gall to yell at us! Then he burns the red light to get away. We were badly shaken.
This is typical in a city where one rarely sees a cop car, let alone anyone bothering to check for bad drivers. They're too busy handing out parking tickets.
Last year, I was driving with someone down Cote-des-Neiges Road in broad summer daylight when some woman just pulled out from her parking space RIGHT IN FRONT OF US . . . again, some guardian angel and my friend's amazingly fast evasive actions prevented a hideous, life-threatening crash (this time on my side).
I keep telling Brigitte "Drive safely," each time she goes out, and she's a good driver, but as I keep reminding her, it's the other guy who's going to get you.
After all, there are a million Crackerjack boxes sold per day.