I drive part of the way to my Wednesday night game group on I-66. The speed limit is 55, but I'm lucky if I can get half that during rush hour. There are certain spots where you want to be in the left or right lane if you want to move faster or slower...it's a zen thing. Being obnoxious doesn't get you going much faster than anyone else, and isn't the wisest of moves. Lots of cops on I-66 during rush hour, patrolling the HOV lanes.
So, as I'm riding in the right lane, this asshat in a white, beat-up Camaro decides he's got more testosterone than me and cuts me off. Does this get him anywhere except directly in front of me? Nope. So, I remember my zen training and move over. I am easily several car lengths in front of him in the left lane after only a mile or so. A few minutes later, he's driving alongside me...a real greaseball looking guy. Then he swerves as if he's going to run me off the road!
Sheesh. I had my phone ready if I needed to call the cops, or I saw one around, but I didn't call. Aggressive driving without a police witness is hard to pin. I held my ground, though...my car is almost 5 years old (just checked...$7,605, according to Kelley Blue Book) and if this guy wrecked it, it's not the end of the world. More importantly, I was at the right point on the tape. I turned the volume up and unrolled the windows on the right side of the car. What did he hear, you might ask?
Me, singing along to the music. I had a big grin on my face, let me tell you.