For some people, it's not what you're doing that counts. What counts is the doing. Something. Anything. It doesn't matter what, or if what you're doing accomplishes anything, or gets you closer to achieving some goal. Hey, that something you're doing can even makes things worse. As long as you're being active, nothing bad can happen and no one can ever criticize you.
That's the joy of being stupid and energetic.
It's this frenetic mindset that produces one of the most common and virulent of driving species: the harmful dodger (sometimes known as "the hopper"). Spotting a dodger is not difficult. They are in ready supply on both urban and rural roads and are an all-season offender. Unlike the creeper, who methodically plans his last-minute sneak into a line of cars, the dodger is a creature of impulse and opportunity.
The dodger's tactics follow a uniform pattern. He stops at a red light and it becomes apparent that the adjacent lane holds fewer cars. This is more than the dodger can bear. He must get into the short line. The idea that another driver might be at an advantage, however random, triggers a deep, emotional insecurity. In a flash the dodger jerks his car into the adjoining lane. This manoeuvre is executed at lightning speed without thought or caution. Is another driver approaching? Who knows? The dodger is not detail-oriented. He is motivated by greed only. If the dodger sees a slightly shorter lane he must occupy it. They are covetous creatures.
Logic plays little role. When a driver moves from a lane that has, say, four cars to a lane with three cars the most he might save are a few seconds. The chances of causing an accident, be it slamming into another car or knocking over a cyclist, are pretty high because dodging is an instinctive move that utilizes the element of surprise. There is no time for a shoulder check or glance in the mirror. Woe to the other drivers on the road. Typically when you encounter a dodger you are motoring along minding your own business and then, POW, a Pontiac Sunfire springs into your lane. It's think-quick time.
Randomly hopping from lane to lane at a stoplight is one thing, it's an annoying habit with the potential to cause harm, but when the dodger decides to practice his craft on the highway it goes from irritating impulse to potentially deadly act. The dodger swerves and races through traffic jumping from lane to lane. Sometimes he signals but the dodger does not use his signals to "indicate" his intent to change lanes, rather, he sees them as a kind of magic talisman that will protect him from harm. It's as if the turn signal was a cloak of invincibility proclaiming to all the mortals on the road: "I'M CHANGING LANES NOW! MAKE WAY!"
On long trips the dodger can be found pathologically passing, yet, once again, it's not about actually doing anything. It's about seeming to do something. The dodger will tailgate you for a few kilometres and then, after three or four false starts he will pass you just as the broken yellow line is about to end, abruptly launching his car in front of you.
Okay, it was a bad pass but he passed and the expectation is that he will do the speed limit. Wrong. The dodger is a timid creature and once he has executed his pass he slows down, often below the speed limit. He drives so slow that eventually, you have to pass him. This triggers his dodging impulses and he once again passes you. Then slows. After six or seven of these exchanges you decide to pull over for a coffee.
The easiest way to identify a dodger is by the many dents on his car, souvenirs of previous attempts to get into the short line. If you're driving along and see a fellow motorist with his head all a-swivel, like Linda Blair in The Exorcist but more frantic, you're probably looking at a dodger. Similarly, a driver who has his arm perennially slung across the passenger seat and his head cocked over his right shoulder (he barely glances forward) is almost certainly a dodger. If you encounter any of these warning signs, use extreme caution. Do not make any sudden or jerking motions. The dodger will interpret these actions as signalling the intent to switch lanes and he will instinctively try to cut you off.
Saintly is the person who observes a dodger pitching and scooting from lane to lane yet does not think, if only for a brief moment, "I hope that guy flies off a cliff." Although fiery plummets are rare, you will often find a dodger standing by his car after banging into an innocent motorist. A police officer, whose services could be better used in a thousand ways, will be on hand taking down the details. You'll recognize the dodger by the bewildered expression on his face. "How could this have happened?" he thinks. "All I do is constantly change lanes for no reason without checking."
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Andrew Clark