Dear guy tailgating me on my way to work,
I know the speed limit here is 40 mph. You seem to know that as well and are trying to go the speed limit, maybe a little faster. Unfortunately the car in front of me is going about 32 and since this is a no passing zone, you and I are stuck going that speed too. I would love to go faster, as usual I am running late for work. With no other choice, I take out my frustration on my steering wheel and compulsively check the dashboard clock.
But you have a plan. Maybe if you drive about four feet from my bumper I’ll speed up. Wrong. If I can’t see your headlights in my rearview mirror you are driving too close to me. I’m not going to speed up if I am being tailgated. I am not going to drive up onto the trunk of the car in front of me, which seems to be the other part of your plan.
You could always try to pass me on the small section of road coming up that has two lanes. It’s supposed to be for passing cars that are turning left, but you tried to get around me at the last one. I fully expect you to try that fun maneuver again. It set my heart racing, a nice pick me up, fully surpassing my coffee’s ability to wake me up.
You don’t try to pass me again there, probably because the light is coming up and you have hope we won’t be going in the same direction. I have the same hope.
We both turn left. I get into the left lane of the two lane road and you zoom past me angrily in the right lane only to stop suddenly as the car that had been in front of both of us foils your plan again by going about 20 mph. After some crazy zig zagging lane changes you are the first car in the road and you speed away. About a quarter mile down the road I stop next to you at the light. Does it feel good to have gotten there first?
Sincerely,
Kelly
