Yup, pretty much. In a situation where it’s possible they don’t see me I’ll beep my horn. But generally I just mutter “dumbass” under my breath and get over it.
I once got chased by another driver. About ten years ago, I was driving on the interstate and I was gradually passing a short row of cars which were in the right lane. In my rear view, I saw a white pickup truck closing in fast. Expecting him to be a tailgater, I signalled, then slipped between two of the cars in the right lane. Turns out, he chose to get into that lane at that same time, to try to pass me on the right. He saw my lane change as an attempt to block him. He got into the left lane, and sped up. I got back into the left lane behind him. He started stomping on his brake, trying to get me to rearend him. Unfortunately for him, I follow safely. For about an hour, he messed with me, trying to get me to swerve or something. I had inadvertently triggered his “kill” mechanism and he wasn’t going to leave me alone. I saw him take an exit, only to get right back on the onramp, to try to catch me with my guard down. He even tried to wave me over, so we could settle things by swinging dicks, no doubt. I eventually followed him partly onto an exit that had a lighted intersection, but then pulled out and took the highway the rest of the way, leaving him stuck at a red light, where he could calm down. For the rest of the drive, I kept an eye out, though. Never saw him again. I like to think he met another like him and one took the other out of the gene pool.
So, I’ve been bullied in every arena: the classroom, the road, and the workplace. My mission in life is to be the opposite of the bully. Nothing is more weak than someone who is quick to anger. Anytime that absurd situations converge to try to piss me off, I recognize that as an attempt to get me to compromise my goal. I look at anger/machismo as a cowardly dive into a self-constructed shelter made of crybabyism, complainery, and whine. Angry people suck the life out of those around them, and I never want to do thaht to anyone. I know what it’s like. So, no anger, just avoidance. It is the wise approach. It feels good every time another wave of hostility dissipates on me.
I’ll honk, growl out an obscenity or two, and fervently wish I had a laser mounted on my car where I could burn his rear tires off.
Look in the mirror, sweetie. It is no mystery why a guy would stare at anyone as lovely as you. Had nothing to do with your driving. Tho I admit that the duration of his stare did violate the man-code!
(Well, at least that’s the mind-fuck I’d choose to give myself!)
I grumble to myself, perhaps swear, and proceed to arming my virtual Klingon Disruptor Array, with the power level set to “11”
In an attempt to not teach the Attackkids all of the profanity that I learned during an extensive career at sea, I have retrofitted my car with tiny stickers beside two non-functional buttons. These buttons are now labelled:
Death Ray
Gatling Gun
You push the button and make appropriate noises. It’s very therapeutic. Lately I’ve been wondering if I should switch to a disintegrator ray, so that the imaginary wreckage will be less of an imaginary problem.
I don’t get to tell this story very often, so although it’s only barely related to the topic I’m going to bore you all with it anyway.
This was probably 14 years ago, I was driving home from a friends house about 10:00 on a weekday when some jerk in a Taurus cut me off. I honked at him and felt that was enough when the guy suddenly slammed on his brakes. I swerved around him wondering why he was pissed at me when he cut me off. As I was going around him he stomped on the gas and came after me. I wasn’t in full defense mode yet, so didn’t think anything of him passing me on the left… until he swerved towards my car. Missed that time and I eyed the .45 on the seat next to me. I was driving on the shoulder by this time (and had noticed 3 people in the car) and I just wanted to go home. I was more perplexed than anything, then the guy started slamming his car into mine (1984 Pontiac Bonneville vs early 90’s Taurus). I couldn’t get ahead of him without being driven into a light pole or something, so I stopped. Ready to take off if I got the chance, and had the .45 if they were gang-bangers or something.
Apparently stopping took all the fun out of it because they took off at that point. The cops later said that the car was stolen. And I never really got mad or concerned for my own safety. It was just really weird.
After that, not much that random idiots pull is very upsetting. I still have a .45 beside me and have never any reason to abandon the defensive characteristics of a ton of steel for 230 grains of lead.
Really, unless someone is intentionally threatening my health, I don’t see much reason to get worked up by a mistake or a bit of offensive driving.
These days, I just mutter “Go back to Massachusetts” and keep going.
I let it slide, and then crush their head with my fingers.
I don’t drive yet, but when I learn, I plan on buying a big black rubber dildo to shake at people who piss me off in traffic.
Me too at times, but it’s more “please God let that asshole not harm anyone” than for them. Then I make sure to pay closer attention to them, so I’m not the next victim of their idiocy.
Perzactly…
And when I got the legal CCW it calmed me even more. I give them as many ways out as I can but am physically & mentality ready to defend myself if they are really crazy.
I have found that *55 or 911 or what ever that local area uses is a good way to get idiots off the road. Make, model, souls on board, tag #, action, mile post maker & direction of travel sometimes = quick response. Also if the idiot sees the call, they re-think what they are doing.
I’m a big ugly guy usually driving a big ugly set of wheels so I don’t get as much hassling as pretty girls flying solo but stupidity knows no bounds.
Now, I have done all the stupid stuff at one time or another but I am mellowing out with age, why I will occasionally use the seat belt. See, I am getting better. 
I figured flipping fingers no longer worked, and the other driver couldn’t hear my obscenities. One day, I became totally infuriated with a driver, who seemed as if it was their life purpose to cause me to have an accident. Without thinking, I drove up beside them, rolled down my window and in one quick motion, pulled it out and flipped them my boob (I’m an extremely chesty woman, so there is absolutely no way one could not know what it was). While the boob was hanging, my tongue was hanging out and flaring. The vehicles driver and passenger stared, probably not sure how to take it.
Most of the time, I just try to blow off stupid driving, but there is still the occasion when I still resort to the boob flip.
Always curse them out, of course.
Flip them off if what they did was obviously intentional, or obviously a result of having their heads shoved directly up their posteriors.
I’ve been known to flip them off with my hand out the window so they won’t miss it, too.
My mother thinks this is shockingly dangerous behavior; she lives in Houston, and according to her, everyone in Houston is armed and dangerous and will shoot you with only the slightest provocation.
The only time I didn’t give in to the urge to flip someone off was after they tail-gated me for several miles–even changing lanes with me in order to keep it up! Who DOES THAT?? Keep in mind I drive a Dodge Neon, and this was a big U-Haul moving truck that was so close to me I couldn’t see its headlights…
Finally this &*%$% actually passes me, and he pulls up parallel with me and I’m just WAITING to roll down my window and flip him off and scream profanities at him…
And a little boy pops up at the passenger window, staring at me. He’s probably five or six.
Well, dammit. I can’t flip off a little kid. Even one with a father as unfortunate as his.
I felt myself deflating like a balloon, and consoled myself with lots of inner profanity.
For some reason this kind of thread puts a smile on my face.
I remember a couple years back when I was in drivers ed I was getting some on-the-road time with my driving instructor. We were cruising down the road, passing some slower cars on the right, when all of the sudden some chick decided to change lanes with the front end the drivers ed cars next to her door. There was no checking of mirrors, no look over the shoulder, no turn signal (not even one of thoose here-let-me-turn-on-my-signal-while-I’m-halfway-into-the-lane signals). Gues she wanted to hang out with the freakin serpentine belt or something. Anyway, my driving instructor slames on the passenger side brake and starts flipping of this lady with a look that would burn a hole through a humans soul. While doing this he is shouting at me to lay on the horn and cuss her out. So, we cruise down the road for a quarter mile yelling any obscenities that come to mind. He ended up fogging up some of the passenger side window.
This is where I learned to drive!
If I can get behind them at the next red light, I take their photo and post it to Flickr with a bunch of rude comments.
I’m loving all the stories and comments in this thread. They’re hilarious and sometimes scary (and thank you very much, Dinsdale - you made my day).
I wish I’d learned to drive with the same driving instructor you did, DubsyUin. I seem to recall that mine had a wart on her nose, complete with obligatory hair growing out of it, and some coke-bottle glasses. Why she was a driver’s instructor, I’ll never know.
Audrey Levins, something similar to your U-Haul story happened to me once on the way from where I live to my mom’s house in Indiana. Only it was a burly, truck-driving nutjob and a 12- or 13-year-old boy. The person driving (the nutjob) was following me too closely. For some reason, the passenger flipped me off. I couldn’t see who it was since I was driving east with the sun at my back.
I was much younger than I am now and irritated, so I did it right back. The results were terrifying. Even though the kid had flipped me off to begin with (yes, yes - he started it!), my response in kind caused the nutjob to alternately speed up and slow down with me as I tried to get away from him, the kid’s window open wide, leaning over to scream profanities at me for several miles. After the filth that spewed out of this guy’s mouth, it was no surprise that the 13-year-old kid accompanying him had flipped me off in the first place.
Why, I chase them down, drive them off the road, drag them out of their vehicle, and beat them senseless. What do YOU do? 
Seriously, I cuss them out, maybe honk if it seems useful to avoiding the accident they are causing or if I’m pissed enough to want to let them know it, make an offended gesture/face if they can see me, then go out of my way to avoid them on the road from then on.
I’ve only used the horn a couple of times, when it’s been needed (most recently Christmas day when someone tried to get into my lane with me in it on a dual turn…).
Usually I make comments on their driving. Stuff like ‘Nice turn signal.’ ‘Decide which lane you want to be in dude.’ or my Dad’s/Grandma’s favourite ‘Park it or drive it!’ That sort of thing.
I try not to swear because if I get in the habit I know my son will be in the car when I start talking and he’ll pick it up…