It's like when you're getting a shot, and you hate needles but can't look away from the doctor. You're paralyzed, sitting on that weird sheet of noisy paper. On the road, this is the equivalent of other cars completely blocking you in. You see the car coming toward you, and you know something's just not right about its path. It's a path that's aiming straight for you passenger door. Your eyes get bigger, you start yelling at the top of your lungs (even though the windows are all shut), you frantically start slapping at the horn, which hasn't been used in all of the time you've had your car, and your head looks like you're watching ping-pong, snapping back and forth looking for somewhere for you to go. But there isn't anywhere to go, and you're forced to watch as some imbecile rams into your poor baby. We'd rather take 10 needles to our veins.

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