(Is insanity contagious?)

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Here’s an inescapable fact of life in America: you have to drive a car, unless you’re Hillary Clinton.

And if you drive more than two minutes, or two miles, you will quickly realize another indisputable truth: most drivers are insane.

People behind the wheel seem completely unaware of me and my car. They’re constantly cutting me off, or helping themselves to my lane, or weaving like Dean Martin on a long weekend. Or they’ll trail me for miles, mere inches away, nestled so close to my rear end that some third-world fathers would demand a marriage.

At one point years ago, while attempting to figure out their oblivious behavior, I held to the theory that I must be invisible. After all, they can’t all be out to get me, even if they had read my published opinions about the Obama administration.

But now I know better. I know I’m not invisible, because people recognize me at work. Usually.

And it looks like I’m not the only one concerned about ducking death daily on America’s mean streets. Apparently, “they’re all nuts” wasn’t enough. So somebody looked into it…to be exact, an American tire company, and the London School of Economics.

Yes, you read that correctly. The London School of Economics. See, that’s what can happen when you decide to go with socialism: you get a country that has things like the London School of Economics instead of NASCAR.

The study passed around a simple, five-question poll:

1. The car in front of you is moving at a snail’s pace. What do you do?
2. You see a car zooming up behind you, winding its way through traffic. How do you react?
3. Someone cuts in front of you without any signal or warning. What is your response?
4. A driver is hogging the left-hand passing lane and not moving. How do you react?
5. A car speeds up behind you and flashes their lights to get you to move. What do you do?

Each question offered a list of possible responses, which I thought were a bit sterile. For instance, none of the possible reactions included the phrase “hail of bullets.”

Based on people’s responses, the researchers came up with several classifications of driver personality types, a list much more in-depth than my simple analysis (“they’re all nuts”). Let’s see if you can identify yourself:

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The Escapee

These are the “distracteds.” These are the people eating, drinking, putting on makeup, talking on the phone, texting, listening to loud music while playing air guitar or pounding the “dashboard drums.” According to the study, they’re dealing with the stress (or boredom) of driving by simply not thinking about it. In other words, they’re all nuts.

The Avoider

While safe, defensive driving is wise, this driver is a little too cautious. This is the driver who won’t drive over 35; who refuses to merge, or dodge, or turn right on red; who sometimes leaves their turn signal blinking across multiple time zones. The Avoider is often found in Florida retirement communities with senior-luring names like Golden Sunsets, or Shuffleboard Estates, or Orlando’s Incontinent Paradise.

The Punisher

If a Punisher sees someone doing something he doesn’t appreciate, this feral animal reacts physically, shouting obscenities, displaying selected fingers, or sometimes by actually getting out of the car to confront the offending driver. Punishers can also get pathologically irritated if you dare take the parking spot they wanted. There are several ways to deal with the Punisher – our favorite is “Open Carry.”

The Competitor

For the Competitor, the road is an arena, and their mission is to display dominance. It’s a lot like the ancient sport of jousting, but with better stereos.

The Teacher

Two words: backseat driver.

The Know-It-All

Very similar to the Teacher, except the Know-It-All isn’t at all interested in pointing out your bad habits – the Know-It-All has simply convinced himself that yes, in fact, he does own the whole freakin’ road. In the business world, Know-It-Alls are those middle-management types who schedule meetings and then show up late, who order their “help” to get someone on the phone, and who stand around in the hallways yakking on their headset while swinging an imaginary golf club.

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So that’s the official list of psychotic driver types. See anybody you know? Hmm?

Lastly, we’ve composed our own little “What kind of driver are you?” quiz, even though we’re not a socialist. Good luck!

The car in front of you is moving at a snail’s pace. What do you do?

• I respect the driver’s situation and wait for an opportunity to pass.
• I take the opportunity to tear open several catsup packets for my fries.
• I lurch into the oncoming traffic lane to pass this putz, risking violent injury to myself and the other driver. After all, I can’t be late for my parole hearing.

You see a car zooming up behind you, winding its way through traffic. How do you react?

• I signal and ease onto the next exit ramp. I don’t want to cause any trouble.
• I signal and move to the right-most lane. It could be an ambulance or police vehicle.
• I signal, but with a particular finger.

Someone cuts in front of you without any signal or warning. What is your response?

• I tap my brakes and remain thankful that there was not an accident.
• I note the driver’s plates and, later, hack the jerk’s checking account and transfer the balance to a porn site.
• Hail of bullets.

A driver is hogging the left-hand passing lane and not moving aside. How do you react?

• I assume the driver is preparing to exit to the left, or simply ill-at-ease in traffic.
• I make several biologically unlikely comments regarding the driver’s parentage.
• I squeal into the adjacent lane, pull up even with the driver, and shout a bunch of swear words that Hillary and Trump both say all the time, but it’s only news when Trump does it.

A car speeds up behind you and flashes their lights to get you to move. What do you do?

• At the first opportunity, I ease into the shoulder. I’m really in no hurry.
• I spend the next twenty minutes alternating between speeding up and slamming on the brakes. This. Makes. My. Entire. Week.
• I’m sorry, I was texting. What car?