British driver?

I was walking to my car after class this evening. 
I know. Shocker.
I normally leave my car in parking garage but it was full when I got to campus today so I had to abandon it at the far side of campus. Not that it matters, I just want everybody who parked in the garage to know I'll be dreaming of pouring bags of sugar in their gas tanks.
Not that I minded walking by the DIA at night. One can never deny having a museum entirely to himself. Even if it was just stairs outside. 
But that's its own story.
Prior to the museum, prior to the stars, and the silence there was passing the parking garage. And a horn blaring from within.
Hmm?
I wondered what was the matter. Two cars pulling out from opposite spaces about to collide? A pedestrian unassumingly stepping into traffic? A murderer discovered a back seat and the horn blaring was a desperate call for help? Or worse, a twihard discovered in the back seat and the blaring horn was a desperate call for help? 
Nope! The horn was blaring from this:

I know it's a little blurry and out of focus so let me explain. The three green lights are signs indicating entrances into the garage. The lane on the far left is the exit. 
What you're looking at is a driver blaring his horn because the entrance crossbar won't raise so that he can exit.
Evidently the orange cone in the center of the lane was also too subtle for him to notice.
What's great here is that we're observing pure ego. This driver isn't even considering the possibility that he's wrong. He isn't thinking that maybe, just maybe he picked the wrong lane. The crossbar won't raise. The card swipe machines are on the far side of the crossbar. There's an orange cone that would surely get run over if he continued forward. There are signs that say not an exit. In spite of it all, this driver is angry. He's frustrated. He is blaring his horn, furious at this crossbar for not getting the hell out of his extremely important way. He's blaring his horn, expecting -demanding- little parking garage gnomes to come trotting from the concrete nooks and crannies and beg his forgiveness.
"Forgive us, maestro! Please don't beat us for our incompetence! You are right! Of course it was an exit all along!"
Picking the other lane isn't even a consideration. Some motherfucker better get his ass out here and fix this fucking gate! Or so help him, he'll keep blaring his horn!
My favorite part of this entry is knowing that at some point the driver either figured it out or -even better- somebody walked up to him and said, "That's not an exit."
How stupid did he feel? 
Do you think it was a slight comfort to that nobody witnessed him blaring his horn because he couldn't get out an entrance? That surely nobody on earth took a picture of him being defeated by a crossbar? Do you think he's already forgotten the whole thing or sitting at home, grateful that nobody in the world has posted a blog dedicated to pointing out his silly mistake? 
Well I think the only way we're going to get answers to these questions is if all of you take a moment to like and share this blog, letting this random driver know, we all know.