Red lights at the bottom of a hill.

This is one I get all the time: An intersection where the crossing street has a stop sign. A car at that intersection, with plenty of time to stop, cross and be clear of the intersection long before I get there. But they stop, then do the little "should I stay or should I go" dance, until I'm forced to slow way down. THEN they wave me through. Gee, thanks. The worst part is, I can't be mad at them, because they're TRYING to be polite. The irony is, if they'd been a**holes, it would have been better for both of us. I weigh 285 pounds - like the fighter pilots say, speed is life. Every time I have to scrub my momentum for no good reason, I cry a little inside (and a kitten dies.)