Welcome to Miami, where the morning commute could easily be mistaken for a practice lap at a Formula One track. I know I've complained about Houston drivers (who can be pretty stupid and inconsiderate at times), but Miami drivers make those in Houston look like graduates of the Miss Manners School of Driving. These people will cut out your heart and leave it beating in the left-turn lane if they think it will get them wherever they're going a little bit faster.
Miami drivers will pull in front of you, cut you off, pass you, and then immediately slow down to turn- and they'll think nothing of it. Perhaps it's the Latin American influence. Perhaps this is the way people drive in Cuba, or Venezuela, or Colombia. It's certainly isn't the way I learned to drive in Minnesota (where obeying traffic laws is a time-honored Lutheran tradition).
Granted, I am hardly the world's most patient driver (just ask Susan), but I can't begin to compete with Miami drivers. These people are GOOD. What amazes me the most is that you never hear a horn- anywhere. It's almost as if everyone accepts that the craziness I see on a daily basis is just the normal cost of doing business in Miami traffic. Sure, Miami drivers are rude, inconsiderate, self-absorbed, and reckless, but it's an accepted fact here. The refrain I hear frequently is "Hey, this is Miami...." Indeed it is, and there is only one rule of the road: KILL OR BE KILLED. It's almost enough to make me homesick.
