Stop Means, um, Stop, Yes?

I am afraid that I'm beginning to drive like a San Franciscan. Anyone who has driven out here will know what I'm talking about. When I was young and pteradons soared over the Empire State Building, I was taught that when one reaches a stop sign one, well, stops. Full stop, however abbreviated. But today, driving around the city, I encountered not one but four drivers who seemed to think that the stop sign represented more of a guideline than an actual law. It's impressive to me that as few people in this city die in traffic collisions as do here.

What happens is, people approach a stop sign and slow down, rolling forward, waiting for the guy in the perpendicular lane to cross. If he is slowed by pedestrians (oy, pedestrians. It's been a while since I last did a pedestrians rant, but that's not for tonight) then the guy in the cross lane may hang at his stop sign for a while, at which point the person in his cross lane may decide to cross the intersection. But slowly, because he's not sure he's actually got the right of way. So he slides across, and the chap in the cross-lane starts to accelerate, but cautiously, which is good because the person behind the guy who just crossed the intersection has decided that this is all taking too damned long, and zips across the intersection too.

The law here is one at a time. If two drivers reach the intersection at the same time, the right-most driver has right of way. Driving around the city I begin to think that only half the people with licenses actually got that question right on the written exam.

Never mind all my fellow citizens who don't understand that "no passing on the right" is still on the books, and for a good reason, too.

I've learned to drive with my mouth. My children have taken to muttering about morons even before I do, but this does open the door to interesting conversations about, like, the actual traffic regulations.