One of my favorite things to do is to pull over and make way for a firetruck. I have ample opportunities to do so, given that our backyard shares a fence with a firehouse and they come flying down our street frequently. But there is something imminently satisfying about hearing the sirens behind you and moving over so that the trucks can go by, presumably on their way to save someone.
Perhaps it's because I will never be a doctor, or an ambassador for the UN or cure cancer. At the very least I can make way for those who run into scary situations to save others while the rest of us line up on the side walk and quietly pee our pants. So I'll happily pull to the side of the road when the need arises. Oh, and yell, "ASSHOLE!" at those who don't*. In the name of public service, you know.
*I may or may not have done that on the way home from work today.
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