There is a special place in hell reserved for what I call the Yellow Light Racers.
As you approach the stoplight following the Prius in front of you going 30mph in a 45 zone, you're trying to keep your hands on the wheel instead of tearing your hair out. You, the attentive driver, notice the crosswalk counter.
...9
...8
...7
The driver in front of you slows down inexplicably. Maybe they're thinking about turning right at the light. Who knows.
...6
...5
You're still 75 yards away, the crosswalk counter taunting you...
...4
...3
Oh look, the driver in front of you seems to have gotten a call on their phone. Better slow it down another MPH or two
...2
...1
As the crosswalk counter stops, the light turns yellow, and you're 25 yards away. Suddenly, the car in front of you lurches forward with the power of a thousand dying suns, and in the blink of an eye they have somehow accelerated to 1 meter per second slower than the speed of light. Precisely one millisecond before the light turns red, they blast into the intersection, probably telling the person on their phone "OH YEAH I REMEMBER WHERE I WAS GOING ITS JUST PAST THIS LIGHT I'LL BE THERE IN 2 SECONDS", leaving you in a cloud of their exhaust. As you see them turn into the driveway 20 feet past the intersection, you stroke the blade of your hunting knife, look in your rearview mirror at your own reflection bathed in the red glow of the stoplight and think to yourself, "soon..."