I pulled up to a stop light in traffic the other day and left space in front enough that I could bail out of the lane if necessary. I was in the #2 lane near the place where a third, right-turn-only lane broke out of the #2 lane. A car passed me to go turn right and I didn’t even think about it. Then
BEE-BEEP! from behind me on the right. BEE-BEEP! I looked over my shoulder and the front end of a non-Police Ford Crown Victoria was poking up by my right rear quarter panel. I waved them up. BEE-BEEP! and the car slowly proceeded. The driver’s window came up even with my windows and it was a wrinkly, gray-headed old man flipping me the bird. His wrinkled-up special lady friend was in the passenger seat. BEE-BEEP! And off he went down the right-turn lane, having neither climbed the curb nor hit my car, and my car didn’t move an inch the entire time.
He was going koo-koo on the horn, flipping me off – and the whole time, he had plenty of room to get by. And 10 seconds later the light changed and EVERYBODY could go unimpeded. Way to be, gramps, good job being a stereotype. Good luck not having a heart attack next time.
