Friday, March 01, 2013

Really

An open letter to the rather grim faced woman driving the white Lexus SUV.

I get it, you are in a hurry to get your precious snowflake to school this morning. But really, do you need to crowd me so much that I can't see your front license plate? I dubbed you a proctologist, much to my 14 year old son's amusement.

You spent a good ten minutes riding the bumper of my minivan on a curvy narrow road that threads through the most rural part of the county. A road that I regularly see deer, chickens, guinea hens, wild turkeys, and pheasant dot the shoulder with the occasional fox and possum. I once had a hawk almost smack into my windshield as it flew up from some road kill. It's wing tips brushed against the windscreen as I slammed on the brakes to avoid it.

And yes, this is the same road that commonly has tractors puttering along from field to field, bringing traffic to a crawl in the early morning hours. A road that has a serious accident about once a month.

So I'm not sorry that I decided to maintain a safe distance from the car in front of me. You know in case either of us has to hit the brakes when the unexpected happens. In fact I widened the distance so
A) you might pass me
B) if the unexpected happens I have a bit more room to maneuver.

I was very happy when you turned off the main road. However the joy was tempered with the knowledge that you were just using an alternative route to bypass me. I told my son that odds are we were going to the same place and that your route was longer and had a lower speed limit. Theoretically I would arrive before you, assuming you went the posted speed limit.

Ha! You following the speed limit. Your only limit would be if you encountered another driver.

Okay I do admit you just got in front of me when our two routes converged, but that was only due to my not challenging the oncoming traffic at the intersection and cutting off the other drivers at the intersection. I did however tuck my minivan right behind you at a safe distance as you rode the bumper of your latest victim.

Big woo, you got in front of me.

The one positive aspect was tat you provided an excellent teaching moment for my 14 year old son. I explained how dangerous your actions were. I was not too concerned about our safety since we were in a minivan that roughly equals the mass of your Lexus. If you did rear end us we would survive. You, however, might not.

1 comment:

ZZ said...

When people tailgate me, I slow. way. down. The reasoning is that I have to give them some prayer of not smacking into me if I see a bunny run out. Also it infuriates them...