You Are Being Watched

About 19 years ago, around half-past dusk, in an average town in a nearby state, I was riding in the passenger seat while my wife-at-the-time drove. Pulling a particularly blatant act of poor driving in the middle of town, she made a left turn and cut off an approaching coproach. She seemed completely oblivious when I mentioned this error. Unsurprisingly, the gangster in question made a turn, followed, and stopped her.