I've been tailgated by some real jackasses. But I've had plenty of positive trucker experiences too.
Once, I was on my way back from seeing a buxom, scorching hot Okie lass. Was a two-and-a-half hour drive back to where I lived at the time, and on the way there, a log truck kept riding my bumper, making ill-considered pass attempts and otherwise making me angry and nervous.
When I made a turn in a small Arkansas town, I caught the tail end of a four-truck mini-convoy. The driver of the last truck slowed, signaled for me to pass, and sort of edged out into the middle of the road once I'd done so to prevent the log truck from doing the same. By this point, the driver had ample time to see precisely what the guy had been doing.
I spent the next hour tucked in between two 18-wheelers in my little '87 Camry. I don't recall ever feeling quite that secure while driving, before or since. When we parted ways in Mena, horn honking and waving was exchanged.
It was a good trip.
