Try living with a bright yellow 911! I think part of is other drivers just trying to razz us into stretching our car's legs and putting on a little show. I remember, as a kid peering out of the back seat windows of the family car and whenever I saw a 911, I'd pray that the driver would floor it and race off into the distance, deafening me with the boxer scream - and if he did, I'd dream about that display for months.
I remember those guys, so I try to return the favour for today's kids. If they wave or point, I tend to wave or toot and, where safe, give the car a little burst. They love it.
What really worries me are the Gimps driving old beaters following too close, whose cars clearly cannot brake like a 911. I tend to get away from those bums as quick as I can. I've been hit twice by the brainless housewife brigade
("Oh, I'm sooooo sorry. My husband's going to kill me!") so I drive as defensively as I can and avoid driving in the rain completely, as that's the witching hour for 911s.
Those morons just can't help themselves...
