Spanish Driving

I hate Spanish drivers. They are the scariest things I have thus far encountered in Europe. The high number of crosswalks is pointless due to the fact that Spanish drivers only take them half seriously. Since I have been here I have been honked at eight times (angry honks. Spanish men are also fond of honking their horns when a girl crosses a street, stands at the curb, walks down the street or is just in their general vicinity), have almost been hit by cars four times, and have probably lost 20 years of my life due to stress caused by Spanish drivers. It is extremely hard to predict what the driver is going to do (stop or plow through you) because their breaking instinct seems to be very similar to my sister Kelly's. Most of the angry honks have come from drivers who stop 0.2 seconds before they hit me and expect me to unglue my feet from the ground, shrink my eye size about 3 inches in diameter, ignore my life flashing before my eyes and cross the street before they change their minds. I have begun taking longer routes to avoid crossing streets or running across them if it is really necessary.