The Tier Test

When Andy and I are driving around town, inevitably there comes a moment when we're behind a slow driver.  Maybe it's the kind of person that is driving ten miles under the speed limit.  It could be one of those cars that has to slow down to two miles an hour to make a turn.  Perhaps they are the sort that goes over train tracks as though their vehicle were held together with wishes and a little duct tape.  Regardless, we both found ourselves easily and thoroughly annoyed, in a very particular sort of road rage.

So we started making a game of it.  I call it the Tier Test. 

One day, when behind one of these kinds of drivers, I angrily made a comment that they were driving "like they have an unrestrained cake in the back seat."  I still have no idea where that came from.  We both paused and had a good laugh.  Soon enough, we were much less annoyed at our pokey motorist (if still relieved when they moved into the turn lane).  This has turned into measuring other drivers by how many tiers of stacked cake must hypothetically be in their car to explain their driving habits, finding that outline a reason--even a ridiculous one--helped us brush it off.  Below are the following levels of situations I project into strangers' cars. 

1.  Buckled-In Sheet Cake
Have you ever buckled a box into your car?  We do it.  Keeps it from sliding everywhere.  At this phase, you are confident in your turns and otherwise drive more or less normally, quick off the line and a bother to no one.

Accordion as example for cake, here

2.  Loose Sheet Cake
There is some shifting around as you accelerate, the kind of light shifting that makes you think "right, I picked up that sheet cake from the bakery," but you're also aware that a little shifting back and forth isn't going to hurt it too much.  However, turns start to slow down a bit because even though a back/forth motion seems okay, there's something ominous about the long, slow sliding sound as it moves the full way across the seat/trunk.  As a result, turns are slightly slower, but no real impediment to your fellow motorists.

3.  Two Tier (all assumed loose henceforth)
These shift a bit differently, sliding with a slow, dense decisiveness on turns that seems a little unsafe, once it does start moving.  The change in weight distribution likely means that it doesn't seem to move too much on acceleration/deceleration, but those turns are now officially slowing down.

4.  Three Tier
The cake is beginning to slide more aggressively now when it starts sliding and you're suddenly concerned about how a bump might affect that cake--with that added height, what if part of it were to hit the ceiling?  Considerable slowness around any kind of bump in the road, slower turns (if still relatively confident) and beginning to consider how your acceleration might shift the cake around, too.  Overall speed begins to slow.  The light turned yellow?  Likely continue.

5.  Four Tier
Now you're getting worried about stability more urgently.  Very slow off the line, afraid that any sudden acceleration change might shift the cake and topple parts of it over.  Overall speed reduction is officially noticeable and vexing to your neighbors.  Turns are taken quite slowly.  The light turned yellow?  Likely stop.

6.  Five Tier
Why did you come down this road if you knew there were speed bumps anyway?  Each one is delicately approached, with as gentle a roll-over as possible for both axles.  Turns are taken in such a way those most prone to travel sickness barely notice, nearly gliding to a complete, calm stop for each one.  Other people might be following you closely, since your speed now is at least ten miles under the limit.  The light turned yellow?  Definitely stop.

7.  Five Tier WITH Delicate Spun Sugar Work
Your driving like you're trying to diffuse a bomb at the same time.  Every bump is a cause for concern and everyone knows it behind you.  Sure hope no one wants to go the speed limit, and you might be the reason a minimum gets posted here next week.  Turns are agonizingly slow.  By the time you're off the line, the light is almost ready to change back.  This cake will be there in one piece with the delicate sugar arches in place, dammit, even if that means it gets there tomorrow.

Have fun next rush hour!