A few years ago, driving home from the winery with the whole family in the car, I noticed the car behind us drift off the road a bit. As in way off - squarely whacking a mailbox at 55-70 mph. And he didn’t stop. At the next stop sign, he was creeping up on my bumper, and I could see the huge hole in his windshield in my rear view mirror. I deliberately started slow when it was my turn, and sure enough, he jumped on it and bumped us. I stopped and put it in park. He started to back up (presumably to go around) and the pickup behind him pulled up tight so he couldn’t. I got out and chatted with the pickup driver, and called the police. Then we both waited for them to come and collect the very stoned driver. The mailbox has gone through his windshield and was sitting in his back seat. He hadn’t noticed. He told the cops that maybe he was having a medication interaction- but the fun little ‘pipe accessories’ in the front passenger seat didn’t impress the cops.
Man, did people trying to get around us in that intersection yell nasty crap at us- but I couldn’t let that kid drive any further.
That reminds me of a similar experience many years ago. I was in heavy traffic on US 46 west bound in Fairfield NJ, on my way home from work in rush hour. Because of the heavy traffic, the slightly erratic speed of the car in front of me didn't seem very odd, but the way it was weaving onto and off of the shoulder did. Then I noticed the flat tire. I flashed my lights and waved and gor the driver to pull off the road into a parking lot. I told her she had a flat, and received a vacant, quiet, lethargic "What?" A flat, I told her, let me help you. But soon I saw the dent, paint scratches, and fresh grass on the right side of the car, and came to realize that she was drunk, stoned, or both, and if got the tire changed I'd be doing neither her nor anyone else a favor by putting her back on the road.
So, I found some very minor damage under the car, and lied through my teeth. Now, I'm a very honest person by nature, but when faced with a good and ethical reason to lie I can do so with a completely straight face. "This is very bad" I told her. "You absolutely can't drive this car in this condition. You're going to have to get it towed."
"You can't drive. You have to get it towed." I had almost got her to understand when a cop came into the parking lot to see if there was a problem. I told him the situation and he told me he'd handle it and I could go. Which I did. And that's the end of the story as far as I know, except for this one note: during my interaction with her, I learned that the car was her boyfriend's Mercedes.