Every time I’m stuck in traffic, 99.999% of the time, if there’s a woman behind the wheel and I’m trying to get out of a tight street, switch lanes, or basically avoid dying in a fireball of metal and regret, she will not let me in.
It doesn’t matter if there’s a war.
It doesn’t matter if a baby goat is trapped in a tree.
It doesn’t even matter if letting me merge would literally save the human race.
She. Will. Not. Let. Me. In.
Why?
Because in that moment, she believes that not letting me in makes her a superior driver or a Good driver.
She knows she has the right of way, and by God, she’s going to defend that sacred privilege with the ferocity of a dragon guarding its parking spot at IKEA.
But wait... don’t you dare not let her in when the tables turn.
Oh no no no—then you’re a heartless demon, an uncivilized brute, the reason society is collapsing.
Welcome to traffic logic: the real Hunger Games.
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