I once drove through Paris. It was interesting because there wasn't a whole lot of lane discipline going on - meaning nobody paid any attention to whether or not they stayed in their lanes. Once I got to the Arc de Triomphe I figured it out: Nobody wants to wreck their own car. So you just go for the opening and other drivers get out of the way.
While walking through Marseille, I had another revelation. If it's not your car, who gives a shit? My wife and I were strolling along and watched a delivery driver skid along some white marks and then run into a bollard at a pedestrian crossing. He then drove off as if nothing had happened. Good thing there weren't any pedestrians nearby.
I think the thing that dive bombers count on is that you're gonna let them in because you don't wanna hassle with getting in a wreck. Many years ago, I was riding with an old hippie in an International flatbed truck. The windshield had a little crank that allowed it to be opened. It was hinged at the top. I remember riding with him in Los Gatos and being at a signalled intersection where opposing traffic had backed up and was blocking the way. When our light turned green he opened the window, put the truck into granny gear, got the truck moving, and then told whoever was in the way to move it. They did.
It's nice having a big-ass beater that you don't really care about.
