I got a really good chance to test the brakes on my Subaru yesterday. I was going south on Highway 10, behind some jackass in a blue mid-’60s Ford truck. As we approached an intersection, the guy started slowing down and got half-way into the right turn lane, but he didn’t have his turn signal on. After braking for a second before realizing this guy was going to turn right, I started accelerating and got over half-way into the left turn lane to get around the asshole. All of the sudden, he decided he was going to turn left instead, and cut right in front of me. I slammed on the brakes and locked them up, while he cut from the right turn lane, across the straight lane, across the left turn lane, and onto another street. I came just a few inches from hitting the left rear quarter panel of his truck, and I skidded across the left turn lane and the oncoming traffic lane and came to a stop on the left shoulder. He stopped, presumably because he heard me skidding, but never once did he actually look back, not even when I was inches from his truck. I didn’t even bother getting out of my car, because I was so damn pissed off that I was afraid I’d hit the guy, so I just drove off. I wish I would have at least yelled at him, but I’d have rather not spent the night in jail for assault. If you see that nice pair of skidmarks across the left turn lane at the south Indian Hills entrance, those are mine.