Dear Tailgater,
Please remove your foot from the gas pedal. You are not going to make me go any faster. In fact, I will more than likely start going just under the speed limit if you persist with your attempts to draft me. We are not at Texas Motor Speedway. We are driving through the streets of Millvale, Pennsylvania at 7:33 a.m. on Tuesday.
I am pretty sure that I should not be able to tell the color of your eyes by looking in my rearview mirror. Nor, should I be able to make out the shape of the birth mark on your check, and see that it is the shape of donkey. The fact that you wear a St. Christopher medal around your next should not be apparent to me. In short, you are too close.
I work a flexible schedule. If I am a few minutes late to work, my boss will not kill me. I can make up that time. I wonder, can you afford to go that slowly? Get a little closer so I can start going 30 mph in a 35 mph zone and let us see how your boss reacts to you being even later.
Sincerely,
Your Fellow Commuter
I am sure that we all have been guilty of this most annoying breach of commuter etiquette. My only hope is that, before we become that guy or gal who is so close to the car in front of them that we can follow the directions on their GPS, we remember this little note and slow down.
Happy Commuting!
Author's Note: No tailgaters were harmed in the composition of this post.
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