So there I was, sitting in the passenger seat as we drove south on Preston Road at three in the morning. Preston, for those unfamiliar with Dallas/Fort Worth metroplex, is a six lane street that runs through Dallas and several of its northern suburbs. At three-thirty in the morning - even on a Saturday - it was very nearly empty. There were maybe two other cars on the road... So the realization that somebody was tailgating us was a bit unexpected.
My friend, whom we'll call TNG* for the sake of his privacy, looked a bit perplexed. I mean, there were two other lanes and no traffic at all. Why was this guy all but affixed to his bumper?
So, after a moment's consideration, TNG slows down a little bit. Nothing too sudden or extreme; maybe five miles an hour slower than we'd been going. The car stays right there, just behind us. It was too dark to see the other driver, or whether there were any passengers; all we could make out were headlights and car.
TNG waits for a few seconds, then slows down some more. It's still fairly gradual, but this time he drops about ten miles per hour. We are now driving down this open, three lane street at the sort of speed you'd use for a crowded residential neighborhood. The other car holds its distance - still way too close - and slows down with us, but otherwise doesn't react.
We wait for a few seconds, expecting the other car to notice that we're going ridiculously slow; but, no. It doesn't. It just stays there, right behind us.
So finally TNG give me this well, okay, if that's what we're doing look, and applies the brakes again. This time, he brings us all the way down to a full stop. The other car essentially fails to react at all. It just stops with us.
So now we're sitting there, parked in the left lane, with another car parked behind us. We wait for a few seconds, but all is still. The only other car on the road is disappearing off in the distance ahead of us.
After a moment's consideration, TNG puts the car back in gear and lets out the clutch. We zoom away, not quite squealing the tires.
The other car was still sitting there, parked in the left lane, when I looked back.
Tequila seems the likeliest explanation.
* Short for "That Normal Guy". There's a story, there, too, but later for that.
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