Before I even got on the highway from picking up my rental car at the airport, I'd already given three people the finger, swore viciously, and changed lanes aggressively to get around the idiots who don't know where the fuck they're going. It feels so good to be driving in Massachusetts again, where people expect the finger and/or the horn at the slightest sign of poor driving. Whenever I let someone in on 128, I'd sigh and say, "Damn, I've been in Seattle too long."
Also, for some reason, driving fast to really loud music seems more appropriate here. Regardless of the fact that I'm driving some old-man Chevy HHR, I'm not afraid to blast the white-guy rap and pimp it up Route 3. Ah, it's good to be back.