Dear Dallas Driver,

Why do you hate me so much? I'm just a poor, Missouri boy from the sticks.

Why is it that you take so long to depart from an intersection when the light turns from red to green? But when I take more than one second to depart, you honk your horn at me as though I'd ignored some unspoken social moree?

How is it that you will drive 60+ mph down the street, but feel uncomfortable making a turn at speeds greater than 5 mph?

Could you explain to me please, why you feel so compelled, even though I be the only other car on the road, to pull out in front of me at the last moment?

Oh, and permit me one more: what would cause you to apply pressure to your brakes when approaching a green lighted intersection? Are you afraid it will turn its back to you and change to that lovely saffron hue warning you to impede your own progress? I doubt that is so, since I've seen you running past those golden admonishings with me.

I'm going to be honest: I don't care much for you or your driving habits.



Yours,

Albert Levi Crump