I am a Victim of Profiling- or Driving the Beemer

It is insidious really.
Beginning simply enough...
 First they stare over the passenger seat right at you.
Then they just seem to dip a little into your lane- like tipping your toes into the ocean knowing that there might be a carnivorous fish in there.
Before I know it, they are IN my lane, and have done a little half wave in my direction- a flittering of the fingers,a tiny lift of the chin, as if somehow we know each other and it's okay.

I was confused.
I DON'T know these people. These commuters in cars... 
My brain went into overtime~ what on Earth could make these people think they could cut in front of ME in rush hour traffic? This has never happened before, at least not in this half friendly, half knowing way.

And then it strikes me like a bug on my windshield- these people are reacting, not to ME driving- but WHAT I am driving. The BMW.

Hold on there Scout! Vaquero girl is driving a CAR and a BEEMER at that? Has the Universe stopped spinning on its axis? Is it the End of Days?

Almost.

1. The car is on loan to me by my cousin who is living for a few years in China.
B. I have decided that driving into my J.O.B. in the City is a better way to transport myself there. It cuts my time away from home by 45 minutes!
#. The Beemer is better on the ol' gas tank than either of the trucks- although I do still drive Big Blue into work on some days.
And that is where the rub lies. Big Blue is a Chevy halfy,4x4 with duel pipes that rumble like San Francisco in April. When it comes down the road, piloted not by a cute little girl ( which I used to be) but an eye- glassed granny with an attitude, people stay out of the way. There is no cutting off Big Blue- there is only debris in his wake.
Evidently I didn't get the memo about civilized people driving Beemers. Seems there is an unspoken code that says that a little past middle aged Grannies in sunglasses and driving BMW's are expected to adhere to polite mores and let other drivers cut lines.  Everyone knows this- except me.
Harrumph!

I'm being profiled!

Blonde lady in a Beemer is civilized, same blonde lady in a truck is scorned.
This somehow gives me a strange feeling of empowerment over the other drivers. They look and see one thing, but actually I am the opposite.

Maybe I will be that shark in the water, that "Little Old Lady from Pasadena " that they have all heard about.
Maybe I'll be Gretchen Wilson....

Perhaps it's a good thing my insurance is paid up!
Go Granny! Go Granny Go Granny Go!