Ten minutes ago I was coming down a little two lane, snakey short-cut, downhill, doing maybe 35 mph and when I was 30 ft or so away from a side road a doofus in a shiney new Ford Pickup decides to pull slowly out. Of course I slam on the brakes, they chatter like crazy for a second (ABS), and bring me to a stop about a foot from the doofus. He just smiles real big and shrugs as if to say, "Dur, guess I wasn't watching," shakes his head - which makes his froofy hair-do wobble - and backs up.

Being the rational person that I am I didn't give him so much as a mean look, because really, what good would it do? I just drove past and my thoughts flowed in this order: Damn! these are good brakes; If they hadn't been, my car would have been hurt; and I could have been hurt; and the doofus would be DEAD.

I was a foot from the truck, pointed directly at the drivers door, and higher than him because he was in a slight drop in the road. There's no way he would have walked away uninjured if I'd slammed into him. He may not have walked away at all, and all he could do was grin and shrug.

And yes, I was more concerned for my car than my own well being. Naturally.