On Tuesday morning, I was driving down to New Brunswick for yet another round of Digital Libraries and Collection Development. Everyone speeds on the Turnpike, more so than on the Parkway, so I myself was doing about 78 mph in the middle lane. All of a sudden, a black BMW came tearing up behind me from out of nowhere. He had to be doing at least 95. Being in the middle lane himself, he must have been quite perturbed by my tortoise-like pace, so he decided to get into the left lane to pass me. In passing me, he did that annoying cut-off move where he only left about an inch between our cars (just to prove the point, I guess, that 80 just doesn’t cut it). As he did this, I thought to myself, “Man, what an A-hole.” A few second later, I saw something out of the corner of my eye. It was a cop car, all the way over on the truck side of the Turnpike. He then proceeded to speed up and make a beeline for the opening in the median. Kicking up a huge cloud of dust, just like Bruce Willis might do in any of his assorted action thrillers, the cop made the switch from the truck lane to the car lane and flipped on his lights. Soon after, he disappeared from my view, and I wasn’t sure who he had his eye on—although I had an idea. Moments later, who did he have pulled over? That’s right, Mr. Black BMW. I waved to him as I drove by, but I don’t think he saw me.
This is the second bad experience I have had with a BMW driver in the last month or two. Are these people A-holes before they buy their BMWs, or does the car itself turn them into A-holes? I wonder.