(as an aside, why is it that drivers who are older and therefore have been driving longer than I typically seem to be the ones who've forgotten the rules?)
In contrast, I will also acknowledge etiquette on the road. If a driver signals to be let in to a lane, I will back off. All I ask is the traditional hand-wave in return.
With that being said, there were two instances this week where -- had Henry not been in the car with me -- I may have proverbially dropped the gloves and engaged in some road wars. The first was in a lane merge, and the other was a lane change on the highway.
In the first, the right lane ends. Everyone who drives that stretch during rush hour traffic knows that. And by the body language of the Chevy truck that I passed, he knew it, too. He just didn't care. He was going to get in front of everyone. I skipped past him and closed the space between the car in front of me and myself, while he sped up to keep pace with me.
The body language indicated that he as going to merge right then or run me off the road (by that, I mean "into the lane to my left, other cars be damned"). As everyone in the lane was playing the same game, Red Truck With the Metal Toolbox was boxed out and left about two car lengths behind me, but not before he had opportunity to angrily slam on his horn and flash his highbeams at me.
As we all went about our chosen lanes, I pulled into the right-turn lane and saw him aggressively zoom up behind me and slam his brakes, an angry Chevy logo looming in my rear-view mirror. I turned and got into the subsequent left-turn lane. I saw him cut across traffic, turn left into a parking lot to bypass the traffic signal and a defiant middle finger flashed in my direction. I watched him speed down a residential street, fuming.
The second was nearing a highway junction. I saw my opening and merged. The Dodge Ram thought I cut it too close, and expressed his displeasure with highbeams. Fine. So I screwed that up. However, there was a large construction flatbed truck so I pulled back into the lane to the left....just as Dodge Ram was doing the same thing, and therefore cutting him off a second time. Again, more highbeams.
Now he was mad. After all, I should have read his mind despite the lack of his turn signals, and the presence of mine.
When I got back into my lane after passing the flatbed truck, I saw out of my peripheral the Ram approach on my left. He was also edging very close to my door, which meant that he was planning to cut me off.
I think he watches too much NASCAR.
Thus, body language prepared me for his next move, which was indeed to cut me off at what appeared to be a hair's breadth between his back bumper and my left fender. He tapped his brakes as a fear/intimidation attempt but I was also ready for that and already slowed to increase distance (and I was getting off of M-59 and onto I-75 at that point anyway). Hillbilly Ram Boy was continuing on M-59, probably swearing to himself.
Had I not had Henry in the car, I may have given in to the self-righteousness and engaged. Or at the very least, given it some more serious thought. But that constant presence of a happily babbling kid in the seat behind me kept me in check and kept my perspective.
In that respect, I won.
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