So all day yesterday, I sat in my window-view cube and watched the rain change over to snow. It was pretty and it wasn't sticky, so I wasn't too worried about my drive home. And I was right! The roads were wet but not that slick, there was precisely 0" accumulation and nothing was frozen. I thought to myself, "Sweet! Take it easy, go maybe 5 under, and watch my braking, and I should be home in no time. Easy peasy, livin' greasy."
And then I got stuck behind a little brown sedan with an Amway sticker, driven by Stan McNormalguy.
I came up behind him at a red light, and when it turned green, hand to God it took at least fifteen seconds for him to reach 25 mph. Which, it turned out, was his optimal (read: OHGODOHGODOHGODI'MGOINGTOSPINOUTANDDIE) cruising speed. This was on 86th Street. I have never in my life wanted so badly to ram someone off the road. I turned off first chance I got and didn't look back, not so much for my sake as for his. I was seriously flirting with full-on road rage (I'm not proud of that -- I'm normally a pretty mellow driver). In retrospect, I should have checked his license plate -- if it said "Alabama" or some such, that would have pretty well squared everything. But still: 25 in a 40, when the snow's not even sticking? Gimme a break. I hope the rest of the winter isn't like this.