In those situations it’s customary for both drivers to lift a hand in mutual acknowledgement of each other’s courtesy and rational consideration, which I did. She didn’t. She sat gripping the wheel and staring dead ahead through heavy, black-rimmed glasses. Her brow was furrowed, her nose wrinkled, and her teeth clearly clenched behind a pouting mouth. And I thought:
Cartoonists labour long and hard to draw a face like that.