IT'S a routine Saturday and I'm driving to visit my mum. I've entered the M8 at a section where you end up by default in the middle lane.

If there's a thing that irks me, it's a middle lane hogger so I'm just about to pull over to the left lane. I'm checking my mirrors before I hit the indicator when I see a Mercedes SUV, a big beast of a thing, coming at a looming clip towards me.

He doesn't look to be slowing down or overtaking - just determinedly piercing forward like an arrowhead. Mirrors checked, my finger moves to the indicator - and I better not dally here, as this guy is still coming at me - when the full beam lights of the SUV start flashing a babbled Morse code through my rear window.

The height of his large vehicle relative to my little toot toot car make the multibeam lights that much more blinding.

This dude really, really wants me to move over. He's now tailgating me with his full beam lights on and - well done, pal - I now don't want to move because he's dazzled me so badly that I have bright white spots in my vision and I'm worried about changing lanes when I can't quite see clearly.

I also feel pretty disinclined to move out of this guy's way. Who does he think he is, the self-appointed policeman of the M8?

He still isn't overtaking, he's just there, right up behind me, flashing his lights, a big, aggressive beast of metal and fuel.

I was ready to move over but now I ain't budging and I have become the thing I hate: an idling, middle lane hogger.

Finally, he decides to overtake and, in the interests of full disclosure, as he pulls past me I give him the finger. It's not big, it's not clever and I'm pretty sure it's pointless as he's so high up I doubt he can see me.

His back bumper has barely passed my front tyre when he starts to pull in, forcing me to hit the brakes to avoid a collision. And there he is, sitting in front of me, doing 10 miles under the speed limit - why? To teach me a lesson?

After a minute or so of this he pulls over to the slow lane where he's scuppered. In front of me is a car with a green L plate crawling along in the middle lane. The Self-Appointed Policeman of the M8 can hardly undertake this driver. Middle lane hogging is annoying, but undertaking is far more frowned upon.

Oh, but no, the gentleman, it transpires, has no intention of practicing what he preaches and he undertakes my car and two cars in front before eventually driving off into the distance.

As road rage incidents go, it's incredibly minor, but not for the first time, it leaves me pondering the mindset of certain drivers. How can some people have such little empathy for others on the road?

He's in a stonking great SUV, a powerful many-tonne vehicle. I'm in a 15-year-old Nissan Micra with some rust on her bonnet and rust on her boot. Had there been a collision, I'm in a far more vulnerable position.

When we sit behind the wheel of a car, we're in charge of a potentially lethal machine and should act accordingly.

Later that weekend a woman shared a story on Twitter of cycling along a road in Glasgow's south side with her children in a cargobike. She ended up in a dispute with a driver, which led to the driver shouting that she shouldn't be on the road if she has children with her.

People become agitated in the heat of the moment - and, er hem, do things they wouldn't ordinarily dream of, like giving the finger - but the norm should be to want to protect those more vulnerable than yourself, whether a smaller care, a person on a bike or on foot. Yet, instead of being cautious and careful, the belief is that they should just get out of the way.

I wonder about the roads these people want to drive on, high speed, high octane highways where everyone's brutally aggressive and the biggest engine wins.

Imagine, instead, roads where everyone looks out for one another with a view to keep each other alive. Now, that would truly be dazzling.