A really good example of the mentality of most drivers is exhibited to me at the stop-light where I make a Right-turn almost every day.
For about a half-mile approaching the light is an un-mountable concrete divider.
There is no Right-turn lane.
There is a Left-turn lane of about two-hundred-feet length.
I have yet to ever approach this light without some moron trying to drive with his hood underneath my truck, plus several more vehicles behind them.
The light is more often than not RED when I am approaching it.
From tried and true heavy-hauler habit and good common sense, I slowly ease up to this RED stop-light, gearing down and timing my approach such that just as I get there the light turns GREEN and I can proceed on around the corner without once touching the brakes or having to launch from a dead stop.
Many times, I have had drivers to whirl around me IN THE LEFT-TURN LANE
and cut me off, slamming on their brakes to stop at the RED light IN FRONT OF ME.
Always, those behind me that intend to turn Left will sail past me as soon as that concrete island will allow, only to come to a nose-diving halt at the RED light.
There is no Right-turn lane; those like myself that intend to turn Right must wait their turn in line with the ones going straight through.
It never fails that here I sit, two Right-turn signals under the truck-flat, one Right-turn signal up high on the head-rack, and one Right-turn signal on the mirror bracket, all FOUR flashing brightly, signifying my intentions to turn Right, and here comes a string of idiots down the shoulder of the road, using it as a turn-lane.
They all look at me like "what's that idiot trying to do; why ain't he over here on the shoulder where he's supposed to be ??"
Whenever it is possible to do so without skinning any fenders, I try to give them a driving lesson; I'm not gonna sit there and get rear-ended waiting for the idiots to get around the corner.
During all of this, at least one, usually female but not always, blabbing on a cell-phone, will ignore that a light and other vehicles are even there, and liable to come through from any direction.
Needless to say, the intersection is littered with remnants of red and amber lenses, broken glass, and plastic and chrome trim.
The situations described above are not once in a while isolated events; they are what takes place every time I go through there --- three miles from my house.
