First some geezer pulls on to the right shoulder as I'm crossing the intersection--my light, needless to say, but I'm saying it--and proceeds to drift into my lane just as I got to the other side. Of course, he ignored the horn. He was only inches away when I swerved into the left lane, which was thankfully unoccupied 'cuz I checked. That's just the kind of person I am. I'm afraid my son made some rather rude gestures, but the geezer was oblivious. After all, if you can't see a midsize sedan, how can you possibly take note of a middle finger being waved inside said sedan?
About 30 seconds later, I turned onto a side street that separates two shopping centers when some crazed soccer mom ran through a stop sign in her single-minded frenzy to get from Target to the La-Z-Boy Furniture Showroom. This time she stopped, with only about a foot to spare.
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