On my daily commute to work, I drive down a residential road with a 25 MPH speed limit and a double yellow line done the middle. There is no room to pull over or park on the side. It is maybe, maybe a mile. Once a month a so, there is a cop hiding behind the bushes of a driveway with a speed gun. It is a very good hiding place, too, right at the bottom of a hill, and there is no way to see him until he has got you in his sights. I drive the speed limit on this road. I try to drive the speed limit in most circumstances anyway, but I’m especially diligent on this road.
So yesterday I was driving down the road, just passing the speed trap area, and this Dodge Ram pickup truck rode up to my ass and started flashing his head lights for me to speed up. No asshat, I told myself, maintaining the speed limit, I’m not speeding up for you. I could almost see the steams of hatred fogging up the windows.
I drive to the end of the road and make my turn. Unfortunately for Mr. Dodge Ram, he is still going my way. This road still has the double yellow line down the middle and I drive the speed limit. There is little danger of a speed trap along this road, but I see no reason to comply by hitting the accelerator. Mr. Dodge Ram is probably giving himself a heart attack being stuck behind a Subaru that just will not speed up.
Okay, now I turn onto a double line road, get into the left lane, and Mr. Dodge Ram guns past me on the right. Bye, bye asshat. But he didn’t get so far. A little while later, there he was, stopped at a red light, and I pulled up behind him.
On green he gunned his monster truck again. At the next red light I pull up behind him again. I was chuckling by now. This guy was going extra fast but not getting anywhere any quicker.
I finally turned down a different road than Mr. Dodge Ram. I don’t suppose he got a speeding ticket that day, but some day, some cop will appear from behind a speed trap and nail his nuts to his rear. A richly deserved ticket, I’d say.