I was getting an upgrade to my car shortly after I bought it last Fall—an auto-dim compass mirror—when the mechanic says to me conversationally, "You know, everybody says that the police target people in little red cars..." and I nodded curtly. "...but really, it's that people that buy little red cars are very Type A."

I didn't appreciate that.

But I had a moment of dawning today on the highway, my irritation peaking as I switched from lane to lane, trying to find a flow of traffic with a pair of balls big enough to go respectably over the speed limit. Um. It's called RUSH hour.

Finally, accepting that 63 in a 55 zone was the best I was going to do, my head fell forward in disappointment, and I saw my disappointment mirrored by the driver in the car ahead of me...his head nearly banging against the steering wheel of his little red car.