There are days when I wish I had an old clunker of a car. Not a small one, no Gremlins; nooo. I want a 70s Ford Grenada—the aircraft carrier of cars. Large. Gas guzzling. And worth less than my IBM PCjr.
Then, when the yuppie XXXX in their SUV (Silly Useless Vehicle) tries to occupy the same space-time continuum that I and my 70s Ford Grenada occupy, instead of slamming on the breaks and jamming on the horn, I can sharply turn the steering wheel, basking in the knowledge that when two large, fast moving and nearly indestructable objects collide, something is going to give.
Like the paint job on the overly priced SUV.
Or maybe the SUV itself.
My hypothetical 70s Ford Grenada I don't care one whit about; it is, after all, worth less than my IBM PCjr.
What I do care about is the smug satisfaction I'll have in teaching the yuppie XXXX about an important Law Of Physics: matter cannot occupy the same space at the same time.
That, and possibly totalling the SUV, leaving the roads that much safer.