I eyed it for a moment, then decided to get out of there, which of course is when the Aveo decided that my lane was superior to her current position. In the split second before this happened, I realized, with a small amount of horror, that I could not find my horn button. I had tested it earlier, but now I drew a blank. One Stebel blast would have cleared my path, but I opted not to look for it, as she was only a little bit closer to me than the wheels of the truck. I rolled off the throttle just in time, and off she went, never knowing I was there--until I gave a short blast of my horn, 2 seconds late.
I'm pretty sure she could see me after that for all of the next 40 miles. Yeah, I followed her. At first it was just because she was still right there, and I was PO'd, but then I realized: I wanted her to see my face. She finally stopped at the Honda factory. I told her I simply wanted to know if she knew she had very nearly killed me, and if she had seen me at all. She hadn't, of course, either seen me or suspected she had nearly helped me under a truck. Turns out she was late for her job at Honda. She had been having a terrible day: her daughter's car had broken down on the side of the road somewhere, and I can't remember what she said was wrong with her husband. I told her her day could have been a lot worse, and mine would have been terrible. She apologized, said she realized that I had family, too. Assured me that normally she is a very careful driver--although the extreme tailgating I witnessed all along the way belied that statement. Apart from specifically suggesting she adjust her mirrors and turn her head, there wasn't more I could say.
I had all that mileage to reflect on my clumsiness with the horn, of course. Of all the life-saving maneuvers I have practiced, I know I give that one short shrift. I also reviewed the wisdom of following the car, but once I committed, I decided not to back down. In short, I was lucky.
