While driving, I noted to myself something true: it feels really like an indulgence to me to use drive-thrus. I didn't on this trip, but I kind of wanted to. But I don't drive that much, relatively — most of 2009, for example, I barely drove at all — and if I go to a restaurant, I'm more likely to go in and sit down. And I've probsbly used drive-thru ATMs maybe three times the entire time I've lived in Portland, and that includes trips. So it's far enough outside my usual experience to feel slightly exotic.
No drivers I saw drove in especially bad ways, thank goodness. I was most annoyed when I saw a teenage boy riding a motorized scooter on a sidewalk. NO. NOT THERE. WRONG PLACE TO DRIVE ANYTHING MOTORIZED THAT'S NOT A MOTORIZED WHEELCHAIR.
Anyway. I also pulled over next to the Belmont Goats' new home because, hey, I like saying hi to goats. And I appreciated one car's license frame, which read "The closer you get to me, the slower I drive."
There. More safe driving done. Oh, and there are no pictures, because I WAS DRIVING, YOU FOOLS.