Let's burn RUBBER, BABY!

So last Saturday my car blew a tire. While on I-95. At 75mph. In the far left lane. Survival instincts being what they were, I immediately pulled off of the road on the left hand side. I got out of the car to make sure there was no other damage, and I noted that: A) Yes indeed the tire had blown. Oh, boy had it blown; and B) There was no way in hell that I was going to be able to change this tire on the left quote-unquote "shoulder." My car was parked so that it was my flat tire, six inches, then death.

So began the trek across 95 with a bad tire. Now, at about 2:30 PM on a Saturday, the traffic on this highway does not cease. Not at all. So imagine if you will, me trying to pull out into the fast lane with a flatter than flat tire, unable to move much faster than 45mph. Fortunately some folks coming up behind me knew I was in trouble, saw what I was trying to do, and slowed down to let me over.

I make it to the right shoulder. I go through my trunk to find a number of items left in there from when I last moved. I dig out my spare tire and jack. I get to work.

Now, I'm not sure why, but people kept honking at me as they sped past at what surely must have been 714 miles per hour. Thanks a lot, motherfuckers. My nerves were not jangled enough. I'm only changing a flat on the side of the single busiest Interstate on the Eastern Seaboard, sure that any moment some slobbering, lead-footed maniac is going to plow into my car (even though it's as far over on the shoulder as I can get it), so please, by all means, lay on your goddamn horn as you pass my disabled vehicle. Wouldn't be at all distressing. "Oh, some guy's changing a tire, eh!? Well, I'll show him!" *HONK HONKKKKkkk!!!*

Honestly. What the fuck?

First, some awesome people help me get to the side, then some jerks honk at me as they shoot past. My contempt for all other drivers was both abated and confirmed. I guess it all evened out.