Never heard the term 'front plater' before. Good to know these kinds of insider knowledge.
"...they use their superpowers for evil..."
You should warn people before you spring a line like that. I almost choked on my tongue laughing.
"...same in Oregon..."
Not any more. Now we are relegated to pumping our own gas, like plebs in the 21st Century everywhere. Lost our elite status. I have to drive almost 30 miles to get to the only station I am aware of where the old guy (it's always him. Never seen anyone else working there, so maybe he owns it and sleeps in the back or something) always pumps your gas. Because he treats his customers so well I always tip. Also, I need that techroline! Not sure my truck would run without it.
"...drive in between two lanes to stop people from cutting in line..."
That just slows traffic. There's a free market for lanes on the highway, and winners pick the lane that moves faster. Treating highway lines like a collective is keeping everybody at the speed of the slowest car, which is a very Communist kinda thing to do. Also, you're just tempting a damn front plater (like me) to drop a gear and zip around you laughing maniacally and giving you the evil eye in the rear view just before they plow into the stalled line of cars in front of them. These kind of gambits reveal the psychology of drivers that expect to always end up in the slower lane when two lanes are merging, and reflects their insecurity. Maybe try to visualize yourself in a convertible just cruising down the highway and being able to signal well ahead of changing lanes, so polite drivers make a space for you to get in, and feeling like you're always going to be a winner in merge lanes, never a loser stuck in the slow lane. Smile more.
Maybe that'll help.
Thanks!
Edit: oh yeah. About crazy drivers. Never EVER try to drive in Italy on roads that have roundabouts. There are no lanes and the damn thing is four lanes wide. Cabs, especially, just decide wherever they are at the moment is THE lane, and god forbid you're visualizing the space with a different lane width or arrangement. Apparently in Italy the horn is the signal you use when you're changing lanes, so navigating a roundabout becomes a white knuckle cacophony of stress requiring split second life-saving maneuvers and an existential hurdle you have to survive to be able to pass on your genes to the next generation. Many family lines have ended at Italian roundabouts.