Seattle drivers exhibit a baffling combination of traits. They are both slow and aggressive. The apparent paradox confused me at first, until I realized what seems like slow aggression is more that these people have 1) no idea I exist and 2) no lives worth getting to.
It's an article of faith among Seattle natives that the reason the drivers here suck is not because they suck, but because they're all transplants from L.A. "We'll find out soon enough," I thought as I pulled on to 405 near LAX the other night.
I pulled on the the freeway at about 70. A U-Haul towing a car passed me like I was driving 40. "So much for that excuse," I thought.
These drivers were fast. They were decisive. They were predictable. They saw me. They did not panic-brake at the first sight of a pedestrian or a turn signal or a mountain. And they could handle four-way stops without someone from the midwest wildly gesticulating You! Go there! Now!
Next.