Titles are always tough. Am I being sarcastic, or just lame? It's hard to tell sometimes.
Yes, haiku! Like most folks in my neck of the country, I spend entirely too much time commuting--about three hours a day, on average, locked in my Detroit-made rolling coffin with an assortment of podcasts and a supply of daggers (suitable for glaring).
I like to make up poetry in my head to pass the time. Since there are only so many rhymes for "dumbass", I've branched out into non-rhyming forms. I like haiku, because they don't make me sound like a Jewel wannabe, and because I can usually remember seventeen syllables at a time.
Your hand gives payment
As you merge in front of me;
Keep the change, and thanks.
I can't even begin to count how many vehicles I'm sharing the road with on an average day. Enough to have figured out that, barring an unluckily short yellow light or two, letting a few cars in front of me isn't going to impact the amount of time it takes me to get home at all. And it's usually easier than riding the butt of the car in front of me to keep someone from cutting between us--particularly since, if I do that, that someone will simply zip ahead in front of *that* car and get in front of both of us. (I miss that about Boston. I'm continually fascinated by the regional driving rules that locals establish for themselves, and how different they can be from one place to the next. More on that another time.)
Anyway, while we've established that I can't generally keep you from getting in front of me one way or another, I still expect a "thank you" wave for the courtesy of letting someone in, for the same reason that I say "Bless you" when you sneeze. And not a half-butted flick of the fingers while you're turning the steering wheel, but an honest-to-goodness, visible-through-the-back-window, "Thank you for acknowledging my existence" flash of all five fingers. A woman in a green Honda gave two waves this morning; one when I motioned her out of the parking lot, and another after she'd merged into traffic. Last I saw her, she was still breathing without difficulty--I don't think the gestures took too much out of her.
I refer you again to Red Foreman's quote. And if you can't be bothered, then I should be entitled to fling my own crap at you. (Hey, 90 minutes is a long time to go with a full mug of coffee and no rest stop.)