So I was driving back from the Jersey shore on Sunday when a guy in a Mazda merged about two inches in front of me so that I had to slam on my brakes, then shot off at about 80. And we weren't even on a highway! Now don't get me wrong, I love to speed just as much as the next girl, but speeding combined with irratic driving techniques are what makes, in my book, a psycho driver.
Of course, I met this Mazda guy at the very next light, so it was totally worth it for him to act like he's in such a hurry... NOT! Which brings me to my next point: Where the hell was he going in such a hurry?? Was his wife in the back of the car ready to give birth? Was he being chased by an armed hit man? Actually, he was not. He screeched to a stop at WAWA!!! Oh yeah, cuz that hoagie was totally worth risking everyone's lives over. He needed it RIGHT NOW!!!
In these types of situations, I always find myself crossing my fingers and hoping for a cop around the next corner. But of course, there isn't one when I need him, only when it's 5am and I'm drunk wandering around Philly.
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