Asshat Adelaide Drivers

I was brought up to believe in the general suckiness of Adelaide drivers. "Pfft, Adelaide drivers," was commonly heard in scathing tones.

Since I've been here, (and been forced to dride with these lower-class road-users) I haven't really found them to be that bad.

I like the slow speed of their traffic-jams, and as long as I don't fall in a manhole-cover or in between train tracks, it's all good.

However.

You guys seem to see me even if I'm in the middle of lots and lots of traffic. I've even noticed that a lot of you give me lots of room if you're directly behind me. I appreciate this. I get appreciative looks, but that's cos I'm hot and the Scarlet Lady is just so. damn. cute!

However.

The jackass who decided to pull out in front of me, from a complete stop, and chuck a Uey, taking up all of my lane, as I was heading towards him going fifty-five ks an hour, give or take a few, (or maybe it was half a three-point-turn, or almost a park, I really couldn't tell, what with the, "He's not going is he? Oh my god he's going! Why the fuck is he going?! I'M RIGHT HERE! OH GOD OHGODOHGODBRAKEBRAKEBRAKE!!!" and all) has made me rethink my rethought stance on Adelaide drivers.

My new stance is this: I'm here dammit! You better recognize.