Wednesday, November 6, 2013

Dear Lady tailgating me on Hwy 400...

I'm concerned for you.

And myself, and everyone around us on the highway—and not simply because you're tailgating me and I've got a lead foot which means we're both going 120km/hr [75mph].

No, in reality I'm going the speed of traffic, which means we're both going the speed of traffic, regardless of the fact that you're so close I can't read your license plate or see your headlights, and in my mirrors can see you squinting and craning your neck forward to get even a couple of inches closer...

Yes, I'm concerned. For the fact that you can't seem to get closer and clearly want to, and it's a danger to both of us—as well as all our fellow drivers on this busy, busy stretch of road.

At first I thought you were using my mom-mobile of an Odyssey to gain some draft for your petite silver BMW, but then I had insight, when I saw you struggling to punch stuff into your phone.

Yes, while driving. Yes, again, I misjudged—my first thought was that you were texting and driving, but no.

No, it occurred to me, as you peered desperately at the back of my minivan, that you were reading. Reading and transcribing into your phone.

Yes, ma'am, I have a bumper sticker.

It's a Wheel of Time bumper sticker.

And apparently it's cause for concern. Because despite it being illegal for people to use their handheld devices while driving, apparently you saw fit to punch "I killed Asmodean" into Google while humming along at 120 clicks, a hairsbreadth away from my rear bumper...

But my real concern—despite the tailgating, the phone use while driving, hell, even your shortsightedness—is for your common sense.

Because while all of that listed above would call your ability to brain into question, I can't help but wonder...

Who the fuck tailgates a driver whose bumper sticker reads that they killed someone?!

No, really, I'd love to know.

Hope you made it to your destination, since based on observations above I seriously question your ability to arrive safely.

And here's hoping I never share the highway with you again,



  1. Ugh! I have no words to express my anger at such an individual. I'm glad you found them. I'd be shouting my frustration (which somehow manages to stick to clean language even in the car) and switching lanes to shake her. No way do I want to share the road with drivers like her.

  2. So awesome, in an infuriating way.