A bunch of dinosaur farmers, bulldoggers and recent claimers of hagship, with their hagseed yammering in the rear seat like performing polar bears on acid, vehicles inert as flies in frozen snot -- makes me feel like I've got a free lunch about to come up and for two pins, I'd lean over and heave it right through the nearest open car window! By jimbo, your distantest ancestors did not bother to invent the wheel so that you -- and you, too over there, Doctor Witling (somewhere Sherlock, having drained the tantalus and shot his needle's bolt, is trying to beat his brains out with a good briar pipe) -- could sit gawking at a green light until they went square! Wheels are to rrrrrroll. See the light? It's green! Grrrrrrreeeen!
I switched to the motorscooter to go fetch my prescription. At least on it, I already expect every driver to be an idiot. If I didn't have to carry a company laptop and a fancy digital-vid decoder tomorrow, I'd ride it to work. Why do the greater worries of a tiny two-wheeler add up to less stress?