Fly Away Snowbirds

It's only July and I am already sick of dealing with Snowbirds.
Snowbirds? Cocaine-crazed sparrows?
No. Snowbirds are people, usually from Phoenix or Tucson, who only come up to Show Low in the summer to escape the stifling, life-sucking heat of the Valley of the Sun.
On one hand, I can't blame them. When your weekly forecast looks like blood pressure readings, it's hard to hang tight and run the risk of melting.
Most of the snowbirds we get up here are old people, who obviously are more sensitive to blood boiling temperatures.
For the most part this influx of old rich people is great. It boosts the local economy for one, which is not undesirable. However, this town, this whole area, is basically a main street town. There are TWO main streets and they intersect, ok. Not a lot of side routes around town, you are on these two streets all the time. During the spring and fall, it's great. No traffic, no snowbirds, no snow. Winter, eh, snow sucks. I've slid off the road a few times and came damn close more than a few times.
This is my first summer here, my first real experience with the Snowbirds. They double the population up here for these three warm months, and though I am assured that they burn tracks out of town at the first hint of a chill, I cannot wait, and here's why.
On no less than three occasions YESTERDAY did an old, blind bat of a snowbird try to kill me with his or her giant vehicle. Whether huge towncar cutting me off in the Walmart parking lot, huge monster truck trying to run me over at the pizza place (she incidentally, later scaled a curb and drove through a small planter!) or some ass from Phoenix trying to enter the parking lot at The Independent through the exit drive, thus attempting to plow through me, my daughter and my newly re-shod Mazda, I simply cannot continue to live in fear of their tendencies toward vehicular recklessness.
I went through and counted all the Phoenix and Tucson dealer license plate holders at Walmart the other day, more than half the cars were out of area, and 75 percent of those were cars that cost more than or almost as much as my HOUSE! Fucking Escalades.
I can't wait for September.