Last Friday on my way to work, a large American station wagon of indeterminate make and vintage “it may actually have had fake wood panels on the side” attempted to change lanes, notwithstanding the presence of a significant impediment to this particular endeavor, i.e., me. I hit my brakes and my horn, and gave the driver the raised-palm, “What the hell were you thinking?” gesture, which I like to think is more witheringly opprobrious than the traditional bird flip. Then I pretty much stopped thinking about the whole thing, as it wasn’t exactly an uncommon commuting experience.
A few moments later, a white, full-sized American pickup truck passed me and pulled right up to the bumper of the station wagon, blowing his horn. The wagon changed lanes, and the pickup driver passed him, and then intentionally cut him off, missing the wagon’s front bumper by inches. I couldn’t figure out what the hell was going on. Then it occurred to me: The pickup truck driver was avenging me.
Perhaps he thought I was a damsel in distress, because at the time, Plooblewagon being in the shop, I was driving a rented 
Toyota Matrix, which anyone can see is not nearly as macho as a 
Mazda Protégé5. Not nearly as macho. Anyway, just for the record, I don’t want to be avenged. I considered the whole thing settled by my “you’re a moron grimace. Road rage is bad enough without forming alliances, coalitions and mutual defense pacts.
Some friend of mine, possibly Bryon, once proposed a course of action for dealing with fellow motorists too stupid to share the public roadway. Everybody would be issued with a dart gun, with a dart marked “IDIOT” “I think the idea was you get one dart a year, so you’d want to be selective in its use.” When you see somebody doing something incredibly stupid, you shoot a dart at his car, which would stick with an indelible adhesive. Once you accumulate five darts stuck to your car, you lose your license.