Two tons of bravery

If your quality as a person is determined by how you treat other people, then the way you drive can also determine your quality as a person. Yes, just as with the poopie bags I left in a neighbor's backyard, I have lowered my quality with my conduct as a driver. I have had two tickets in my career as a driver, and both came when I deserved them most. I will get to those wonderful moments later, but right now I will talk about my tendencies as a driver and how they affect my view of my micro morals.

I like to think of myself as a passive aggressive driver. I don't tailgate, yell obscenities, make hand gestures, or use my horn unless I feel a direct threat from an inattentive driver. But I do find a special pleasure in subtle actions to aggravate drivers that bother me. If someone is driving especially aggressively, I will slow down next to another car so they can't pass me. If someone tailgates me on the interstate while I am in the left lane, I refuse to move out of the way. I know I should be a better person and just let it go, but that is easier said than done.

I am certainly guilty of moments of road rage, but there are two moments that stand out in my mind. The first one was on a boring stretch of corn lined interstate that was being repaired. The construction was intermittent, so in the middle of all the one lane restrictions there were short sections of two lane freedom. I was stuck behind an old blue farm truck that was going forty miles per hour. I am okay with people going slow in construction zones, but going less than the speed limit was getting on my nerves. We came up to the first open section of two lane road and the truck didn't move to the right lane. By the time I realized he wasn't getting over it was too late for me to get around. So five more miles of forty mph was my punishment. Five miles for me to get more angry. So at the next open section I tried to pass the old truck on the right, but he sped up. I couldn't pass him. And needless to say he slowed to forty again once I was forced to get behind him for the next stretch of construction. Seven miles of irritation this time--seven slow miles. In the next open section, we did the same dance, but this time I was determined so I accelerated immediately and was at eighty five mph by the time I realized that I was going to make it past him. I looked over to see the two men in the old blue truck smiling at me. What are you smiling at? I turned back to see a state cop on the shoulder. He flicked his lights and I pulled over in front of him.

The next moment was worse. I was driving on a city road at night and the speed limit was 30 mph. I was going through an intersection on a green light and a little red car turned right in front of me. I hit the brakes and honked, and then proceeded to tailgage the little red car until it turned off the road, but then I got stuck behind a white Ford Tempo that was going 17 mph. I was still a little mad and tailgated this person until I couldn't take it anymore and passed it. I immediately saw the lights. The cop told me that I must have scared the little old lady in the tempo almost to death. I wasn't in the mood for the self righteousness. "Did you see the red car pull out in front of me?"

"That is the ticket I am letting go with a warning."
"Really, so I am getting more than one?"
"One for following too closely, and another for going forty-five in the thirty."
"Thanks for the leniency."
"I would be happy to give you that third ticket if you want to keep talking."

Why are we so mean in the car? Do we feel insulated by the two tons of steel? If that is the case, the car is a special test for micro morals. If I treat people worse in the car than I do face to face, then the real me must be in the car. It is in the car that I feel free to do things without social judgement. The car is a surrogate for social interaction. It is safer for me to act out of anger and other emotions. Have you ever cut someone off, only to see it was someone you know? How did you feel? Did you apologize?