Average Jane In Traffic

My husband and I were afraid we were in for a rough New Year’s Eve when other motorists tried to kill us twice within the first five minutes we were on the road.

The first near-death incident was on the highway.  A giant Suburban lumbered across three lanes of traffic right in front of us before speeding away.  I marked his passage with some colorful language, prompting my husband to say, "You probably curse all the way to work just like that every morning, don’t you?"

At first I said, "Yes," but then I realized that I am much crabbier on my morning commute when I’m tired and I haven’t eaten breakfast or had any caffeine.  There’s just no comparing that to a leisurely New Year’s Eve drive when I’m rested, primed with Red Bull and ready to enjoy a lovely evening of music and fun.  The level of profanity is probably about the same, but the mood behind it may vary is all I’m saying.

Maniac Number 2 joined us after we’d exited the highway and were sitting at a stoplight.  The left turn arrows turned green and MN2, who was directly behind us in a huge pickup truck, leaned on his horn angrily.  I looked leftward at the two empty turn lanes just to make sure I wasn’t mistaken about not being in one of them.  MN2 continued honking and pulling forward ominously until the light changed.  I went on my way and watched in my rearview mirror to see if he would then turn left, but he didn’t.  Dumbass.

In my tiny Honda Insight, I drive very defensively.  One hit from an SUV is all it would take, to paraphrase Tom Lehrer, to cause me and any passenger I have to "drop our agendas and adjourn."  I only wish that the overly aggressive drivers of huge cars were as aware of that risk as I am.