St. Louis drivers are...the absolute worst drivers in the United States, perhaps in the entire world. I'd be making uneducated assumptions if I were to assume other places on Earth didn't have God-awful drivers. I'm sure they do. However, I'm quite sure St. Louie takes the cake.
Here is an example:
6:40 A.M. South City. River Des Peres Blvd., North Bound. I turn, after signaling and braking, right from Gravois Road onto River Des Peres Blvd. I note the speed limit sign quite quickly: 40 mph. This road is two lanes on each side, with no median. There are no curbs. Just grass. On the East side of the road, the river runs. It is high at the moment.
I have been taking this route to work because it is a much easier(and less chaotic) route than my old one, which was Jamieson. Too many stop signs that too many people rolled, ran, or sat at for 3 minutes. I am contently enjoying my daily drive to work ritual: a cigarette, a cup of coffee, and my iPod on shuffle.
As I begin the drive onto River Des Peres, I am cautious to heed the speed limit. One, to avoid a ticket, but let me be honest and tell you the real reason: I didn't want to spill my deliciously hot coffee. Regardless, I was heeding the limit. When out of nowhere, a silver Camry comes flying up in my rear view mirror. He slams on his brakes, then swerves into the left lane, riding another car's ass. The car's speed isn't suffice to him, so back he swerves into my lane, but this time he adds a long honk. To whom? I'd no idea...not me? Sure enough, he tails me long enough to pass the car in the left lane, and swerves in front of it. He guns it, and whilst he passes me, he honks, rips off his sunglasses, and gives me a bone-chilling stare.
Ummmm, what?! How has this man gotten angered by me? I have been minding my own business, and now he's honking, swerving, pointing, etc.
This man seems unstable enough to make me believe that he could/would do me some bodily harm, so I continue to drive, below the speed limit. Wouldn't you know that our cars would meet a few lights up. I ignore him, he honks his horn. Then I lost it. Flailing my arms and screaming profanities, I took off as the light was turning green. He rode the car's ass in front of him(leaving a few inches of space), and eventually cut across 2 lanes to make a turn onto a different street.
Leaving me outraged, confused, shaking, and wondering that, in the midst of all of the nonsense, my flicked cigarette made it out the window. Otherwise I've got a backseat that's close to being engulfed in flames.
Which is where that bastard driver belongs.