As I slid into the morning rat-farce today heading north on 280 I saw your modern, aggressive grille in my rear-view mirror. Sleek, shiny, and black. Not some cheap-ass little 3-series.
You were behind me for perhaps two miles, the entire time maintaing a safe distance. I could have switched to a faster lane, but like hell I was going to give up the chance to have a courteous, safe driver behind me. Eventually, of course, someone had to move into the space you left in front of you, and climb into my tailpipe.
I remind myself that not all of the people who ride my bumper are impatient assholes; some of them are merely incompetent. You, Mr. Beemer Driver, were both courteous and competent, and obviously interested in not ramming your sweet ride into the rear of the guy in front of you.
Thank you, sir, for a few low-stress minutes on my drive to work this morning. Hopefully I’ll see you again.
I was almost to work today before I saw wreckage on the side of the road. It would have been the first time this year I went two days in a row without seeing evidence of an accident on the eight-mile stretch of highway I drive. It was not to be, however. There is was — a rear-end collision.