Because most students are from the Chicagoland area, Interstate 57 is often the route of choice for those of us sophisticated city and suburban folk. I-57 also is a stretch of highway where you can witness some of the most atrocious driving ever. Even though the majority of drivers are sane, there always is a handful of drivers who keep the two-hour drive to and from the Windy City an interesting experience. This is important, because trying to pronounce “Chebanse” gets old the second you pass its exit. Here are some examples from my travel experiences of bad drivers on I-57, and what to look out for when you see these people.

n The Regional Renegade is the frat boy from an Illinois regional school who storms down the road going 95 mph. He proudly displays his fraternity sticker on the back window alongside the sticker reading, “Eastern/Northern/Southern/Western Illinois University.” He might believe he’s a NASCAR driver, but the more likely case is that when he sees a car with a University of Illinois sticker, his inferiority complex causes him to exert his manliness by showing just how fast his 1988 Ford Tempo can go. It’s best to move to the right lane and roll your eyes when this titan of the turnpike makes his presence known.

n Behemoth SUV Guy drives his GMC Yukon with no regards for others because he can crush every vehicle that gets in his way. Angered that the size of his car is inversely related to the size of his penis, Behemoth SUV Guy takes his resentment out on you, the sensible driver. He lolly-gags in the left lane doing 50 mph while semi-trucks pass him on the right going 53 mph. If Behemoth SUV Guy has Wisconsin license plates, then he’s almost certainly towing a large piece of equipment as well. You should assume he has a rifle with him and conclude that his speed will top out at 45 mph – while he drives in the left lane, of course. This guy also has a short fuse, because he desperately needs a can of Pabst. Give this man his space.

n You first notice The Blinker Babe when she is a half-mile ahead, because her turn signal has been on for the past three minutes. Someone who hasn’t noticed that her turn signal has been on that long is someone whose poor attention span makes her a danger on the road. As you approach her, you need to plot your path for a pass. Proceed with caution. As you pull your car next to hers, turn and look at her. You’ll notice Blinker Babe is most likely lip-syncing to some Ashlee Simpson song or jabbering incessantly on her cell phone. Gross.

n Finally, Motorhome Moron is the hick from Arkansas who hasn’t quite mastered the phrase “pay at the pump.” Look Bubba, I know you don’t fill your house up with gas very often, but that little slot is for a credit card, not cash – and you put it in before you start fueling. Because the gas station in Rantoul has about five pumps – two of which actually work – do us all a favor: Pay inside instead of making us sit in line while you get an attendant to come out and explain to you how much of a dolt you are. My advice to avoid this is simple: Don’t stop in Rantoul unless you want to extend your trip by 45 minutes.

While these people can be a hazard on and off the road, they will keep you alert. With perils at every bend, be sure to always be on the lookout – and remember to buy your gas before you hit the road.

Chris Kozak is a senior in LAS. His column runs Wednesdays. He can be reached at [email protected].