I don’t know, but for years I’ve been throwing pennies out my sunroof when being tailgated and only one guy followed me home to kill me. Unfortunately for him, I’m crazier than Mike Tyson when someone tries to kill me.
The windhsheild washer thing is more common than you think. I’ve done it, and I know a few people who have as well.
This is among the funniest things I have ever read on this board.
I’m sorry, but I can’t pass your slow ass when you’re driving in the passing lane and keeping pace with the car on your right. Does the concept “go with the flow of traffic” mean ANYTHING to you whatsoever?
Get out of the way.
I said, get out of the way!
Are you listening? I said GET THE @$%! OUT OF THE WAY!!!
What, have you made it your own personal crusade to see that nobody on the highway goes above the speed limit? Do you get your jollies seeing a car coming up to pass you and then deliberately pull into the passing lane to block them? Or is it just sports cars like mine that you have a grudge against?
Is that your problem? Are you incapable of just letting faster traffic drive past you? Do you have this need to always be in front? Or did God Almighty come down from the heavens in a blaze of glory and appoint you the guardian of motor traffic?
If so, why don’t you do everybody a favor and just stay off the road. Take a cab, or public transportation. Or just stay home and do your shopping on-line.
Sorry – I just thought the opposing viewpoint should be presented. We now return you to your regularly scheduled rant…
Barry
Why does anybody care what the person behind them is doing? What does it matter if someone is 2 ft or 2 miles behind you?
My favorite bumper sticker:
I’m not tailgating, I’m drafting
My wife bought a bumper sticker in Stockton for her car it reads:
You aren’t my bitch so get off my ass, we get a lot of laughs driveing around town
Sometimes I’d dearly love to get out of the way of the flaming jackass riding my rear bumber when I’m caught in the left lane and have a car to my right. Problem is: CAN’T SLOW DOWN WITHOUT GETTING REAR ENDED. And then the fool to the right takes offense that someone’s daring to even dream about getting in front of them so I’m stuck.
*Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All on the highway of Death
Rode the three banger.
"Forward, the red Metro!
“Charge for the gap!” he said:
Onto the highway of Death
Rode the three banger.
“Forward, the red Metro!”
Was there a man dismay’d?
Not tho’ the driver knew
Someone had blunder’d:
His not to make reply,
His not to reason why,
His but to drive and die:
Onto the highway of Death
Rode the three banger.
Jackass to right of him,
Jackass to rear of him,
Empty road in front of him
Vroom’d and thunder’d;
Storm’d at with horn and brights,
Boldly he drove and well,
Onto the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell
Rode the three banger.
Tap’d his brakes in dare,
Tap’d as he turn’d in fear,
Staring at the fools there,
Charging an SUV, while
All the world wonder’d:
Plunged in the exhaust-smoke
Right thro’ the gap he broke;
Suburban and Expedition
Reel’d from the sudden stroke
Stunn’d and amaz’d.
Then they drove back, but not
Not the three-banger.
Jackass to right of him,
Jackass to left of him,
Empty road in front of him
Vroom’d and thunder’d;
Storm’d at with horn and brights,
While car and hero wreck’d,
He that had driven so well
Came thro’ the jaws of Death
Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of him,
Left of a three banger.
When can his glory fade?
O the wild charge he made!
All the world wondered.
Honor the charge he made,
Honor the red Metro,
Noble three banger.*
My apologies to Alfred, Lord Tennyson.
So speed up until you pass the car on your right and THEN move into the right lane. And if your car doesn’t go that fast, what the @%#! are you doing in the passing lane in the first place?
Barry
P.S. Loved the poem!
P.P.S. In college, I had a Chevy Sprint (the precursor to the Geo Metro) and drove it cross country a few times. Nothing like going 35mph up a steep hill with the pedal to the metal, with an 18-wheeler tailgating AND blasting his horn every few seconds…
I had the same problem Monty referred to yesterday, except that I was in the center lane. I guess, since the vehicle behind me was a truck, he couldn’t really go in the left lane, but it was still vexing (and a little alarming to be tailgated by a big, honkin’ truck). I felt moved to write the driver a letter, although I neglected to note the name of his company, he shall sadly never read it:
Dear Mister Truck Driver,
I realize you may not remember me. I’m sure there must be many wee little cars you have tailgated in your illustrious career. I daren’t hope that my little green Saturn captured the fires of your imagination and will live forever as a burning beacon in your memory. I am fully aware that only oversized cheeseburgers, kegs of cheap beer, and naked dancing girls have that privilege. I would not dream to presume such exalted status for myself.
I humbly prostrate myself before you, sir. I realize that in the grand scheme of the universe, you are far more important than I. I feel grateful to have merely spent a few minutes gazing wistfully at your grille in my rearview mirror. I thank you for this honor. Rest assured my children’s children will be telling their children of your driving prowess and manly presence.
Please, I beg you, forgive me for my great sin of not moving out of your way when you wished to proceed forward at a faster pace. I realize that the SUV directly in front of me and the cars hemming me in on both sides provide no excuse for my egregious behavior. If I were truly a worthy servant I would have contrived to either run them off the road or to total my own vehicle so that you might have the exquisite joy of being one car-length further forward. Although your significantly higher altitude meant that you could clearly see I had no real option to get out of your way, I know that your mind was too filled with lofty thoughts to have to worry about such mundane matters. I did tingle with a certain proud joy when you decided to follow me to the right lane and then back to the center, allowing me to examine the minute details of your front bumper all the while. I can only dare to dream that maybe I captured your blessed attention for those few moments. I thank my lucky stars that you deemed me worthy of a few more minutes of your exalted presence.
I fall on my knees to beg your forgiveness. Although you are a Titan among men, please do not think that I shall be doing anything else while I’m down there. I realize that both your driving skills and your manly presence cause women everywhere to fall on their backs and fling their legs in the air when you walk by. I am sure my lack of a similar impulse is due to my small-minded, prudish, deviant nature.
As a final note, I would like to offer my most humble condolences if, when I finally had the opportunity to move into the left lane and sped off leaving you in my dust, I caused your manly appendage to wither and fall off.
fairy kisses,
Hatshepsut*
godzilla: Glad you liked the poem. Please doublecheck the intro to it. You’ll notice that the jackass to the right in that situation is ensuring he stays to the right so I can’t get in front of him! Oh, and the Metro (from the year I got mine on) is no longer Geo–it’s Chevrolet Metro.
To the insane tailgaters out there: This might come as a stunning shock to y’all; however, once you pass the person whose bumper you’re riding like you think it should be another one of your floor pedals, there will still be people on the highway in front of you!
Well, I repeat: what are you doing in the passing lane in the first place? That’s only for real cars, doncha know!
Surprisingly, that’s not usually the case. Most people move out of the fast lane when they see a faster car approaching from behind. I rarely have to actually tailgate somebody on the highway, in fact. Of course, when the traffic is tight in all lanes (meaning that there’s no way for the person in front of me to move), I respectfully refrain from tailgating. I don’t expect the person in front of me to have an accident by trying to squeeze into another lane recklessly, but I do expect him or her to show a little common sense and courtesy and move out of the way when it’s feasible.
Seriously – it’s the whole “2-car moving roadblock” at exactly 55mph that really flames my burger…
Barry
Well, granted that a Metro’s not exactly a real car (but closer to one than a Neon is), nobody has to tail gate.
Wasn’t there a Pit thread a while back by someone who had a major hissy fit because the washer fluid from the car on front of him hit his precious car? 
Highway etiquette is one thing. My original post was about back roads, and little, tin Speed Racers who won’t pass, when they so obviously want to go 412 mph.
They don’t mind speeding. They don’t mind tailgating. They don’t mind beeping and waving their arms and swearing at me.
But that friggin’ double yellow line is as sacred to them as Jesus’ mum to a nun.
Actually, what I’d really like is a way to paint a double yellow line across the road just behind my car. I could easily stop those tailgaters, and have them out of my life forever.
Well, if you’re talking about Rt 30 (where there’s always some idiot who thinks that the Rt. markers are the speed limit signs), all I can say is that the road’s too damn twisty to pass in most places…
Barry
The speed limit, cops, cars coming the other way, twisty roads… None of that stuff is the law-abiding citizen’s fault. Don’t be mad at him.
Be angry at your own desire to speed, or your own failure to do so. Punish yourself if you must, but stay off the bumper in front of you. Grow a pair and pass, or cool off and accept your pitiful limitations.
Hmmmmm…
You do know that the speed limit for large chunks of Rt 30 is actually 45 mph and not “30”, right?
Just checking 
I’m often amazed when driving down twisty roads like Rt. 30 when I see a loooong line of cars with one pokey driver at the front and nobody ahead of him (or her) as far as the eye can see. If the “lead” driver is so not in a hurry, you’d think that he (or she) would just pull over and let the line of cars pass by. But, noooooo! The driver has a point to prove – “I’m driving the legal speed limit (or under) and I’m going to make sure that every otehr driver behind me does as well.”
And then, to add insult to injury, if you finally do manage to pass the slowpoke you are treated to flashing lights and a barrage of honking to let you know what an asshole the driver thinks that YOU are! Just no pleasing some people, I guess…
Remind me to tell you about the guy I saw **rollerskating ** down Rt 30 once, with a hundred or so cars stacked up behind him…
Barry
since I doubt many of the posters are commuting on the autobahn… let me remind them, it’s the speed limit, not an advisory… so even if someone is in the left lane… as long as they are not driving below the limit, back off…
Hahaha. Screw all those of you who think it’s reasonable to be in my way in the fast lane. Yanno, there’s a reason it’s called the “fast lane”, or the “passing lane”.
Screw you if you think you’ve been put on this earth as some sort of nazi hall monitor to keep those of us with value in our lives and places to go down to your lazy-ass schedule. Go get a job at the DMV if your joy in life is wasting other people’s valuable time.
I just love when I’m riding on some slowpoke’s ass and they hit the brakes, cause then I have the huge satisfaction of knowing that it’s getting to them. Let’s face it, without a consequence, such losers would think it’s ok to be in the way.
Oh, and you know what? It would be my greatest dream to have some jerk turn some reverse headlight on me or release a firecracker or spill brakefluid or whatever. Nothing would please me more than wrecking their car, seeing them pay me for the damage to mine, and best of all seeing them in jail.
So just take the side streets, Miss Smell-the-flowers; leave the freeways to those of us who have some place to go.
But at least on the autobahn it’s illegal to drive in the left lane unless you’re passing. That law is overdue here.
In FL, when you happen upon an insurance rate raising, widow making shit for brains that has an obvious problem with time management riding your ass, pick up the cell phone and dial *FHP. Report them as an aggressive potentially impaired road hazard on the 528 at mile marker 12. That is a donut dropping code red alert for the cops. No traffic school for you. Major fines and doubling of your insurance. Strike two and you get to take the bus for a while. It really works.
As our prez says
Okay, but how about some powerful external speakers, hooked up to a microphone in the front seat? Imagine the next time someone’s tailgating you, and suddenly you boom at them, “Hey, you! In the Taurus! BACK THE FUCK OFF!”