Driving to school this morning, I got delayed by a backup at a construction bottleneck. It was not particularly annoying, partly because the drivers politely lined up in a single line well before the merge.
It's so unlike New York City (where I spend half my time) here in rural Pennsylvania. In New York, my blood pressure soars each time I exit the FDR drive for the Brooklyn Bridge--watching people zoom past and cut in, keeping all of us polite folk waiting.
I first noticed the rural etiquette for merging some six or seven years ago, when I started spending substantial time in Pennsylvania. Driving on Route 80 on days when there were stock-car races in the Poconos, I would see lines of pick-ups with gun racks, muscle cars, and SUVs--many driven by big, tough looking guys with Harley tattoos and patches--politely waiting their turn for the exit, leaving the passing lane clear for those of us continuing on east.
They probably later arrived at the track in good moods, not grumbling because someone had cut them off. Road rage did not seem their problem.
When there was substantial construction on Rt. 78 a few years ago, I noticed the same thing--and saw that it was the truckers who enforced it. They would drift partially into the empty lane, making it impossible for the impolite to speed around them.
When I cross under the Hudson going west or over the Delaware going east, I have to begin to change my orientation, using New Jersey as my buffer zone. If I drive like a New Yorker in Pennsylvania, not only am I going to be over-stressed, but will have to put up with the memory of all the nasty looks. On the other hand, if I drive like a Pennsylvanian in New York, I will never get where I am going. In fact, I will be impeding traffic.