Three days a week I drive route 33 west from Athens to Columbus. Every time, I see at least one of these guys. Heck, you might be this guy... and if so, I want to let you know what I see when I look at him.
He is driving a four-wheel drive pick-up and it usually has a NASCAR sticker in the back window.
He has the right to get to work faster than the five-hundred people in front of him.
He pulls up in back of me in the passing lane. I am already going 65+ mph, in the traffic flow with approximately four (not enough) car lengths between myself and the car in front.
There are probably a hundred or so vehicles in front of me and the right lane is bumper to bumper.
He starts by tailgating while swerving back and forth. He flips his brights on. I reach up and adjust my mirror so that the lights are out of my eyes, trying to find a place in the other lane at 65 mph. Meanwhile, this idiot is waving the finger out of his window.
I finally ease my Jeep over into the right lane and the redneck begins his assault on the next car. He usually gains about four places by cutting off drivers and multiple lane changes between the time he passes me and when I catch up with him at the slow-down between Carroll and Hamilton Road.
If you drive route 33 then I am sure that this might sound like your morning, too.
While he does elevate my blood pressure, I do want to thank the Red-neck pickup truck driver for making me feel so superior.
And sometimes I find myself hoping, Lord forgive me, that someday, when he is alone on some two-lane country road with deep run-off ditches, he'll have a blow-out.