Stop

Here’s what I do when I’m at a four-way stop and someone goes when it’s clearly my turn:

I nearly hit them.

Sometimes I go really fast and stop just before I hit them.
Sometimes I go slowly and stop just before I hit them.

But I pretty much always nearly hit them.

Tonight, for instance. Four-way stop a few blocks from the office. I’m heading east, and I have the clear right-of-way; I got to the stop five seconds before the other guy, who’s to my left, heading south. I’m waiting for the person who’d already gotten there before me to clear the intersection. (Naturally.) That car is facing me, heading west.

So as soon as the westbound car is past the midpoint of the intersection, the hump to my left, the southbound guy, starts going, cutting in front of me.

So I speed up and very nearly t-bone him.

He slams on his brakes and looks at me, shocked. And seeing as how he’s driving a new Benz coupe, his brakes are in outstanding condition.

I just stare back at him with what I hope is an utterly blank expression, devoid of any emotion whatsoever. Since we’re only about, what, five feet apart? He’s probably got a pretty good view of my face. (Poor bastard.)

He accelerates out of the intersection, chattering away on his cellphone quite animatedly, no doubt telling his listener about the insane jerk who almost hit him just now.

So. That’s what I do in those situations. I don’t like it about myself. And yet I do it pretty much every time.

Comments

[xixi]

<3

[sam]

I keep a Browning Automatic Rifle next to me. A few .30-06 slugs ripping into the trunk of your car makes a lasting reminder.