As I slid into the exit lane, the car ahead of the Perdue truck I had been following came into view. In it was a lady brushing her hair. With one hand, she smoothed her hair and with the other, she brushed it. The whole time she was in my view, at least a quarter mile, she had both hands entangled in doing her hair.
She was the only person in the car. She was occupying the driver’s seat.