When I was a kid growing up, I always saw it as if we had won a race or something.
We beat you to the rest stop, neener neener neeeener..

True story, 1961, neighbors 4 houses down were a bunch of losers, but you can't pick your neighbors and we lived in Sacramento.
Anyway, we're in the middle of nowhere, literally out in Kansas and pull into some dump motel, and fuck me, there they are.
Dad looked at us kids and said your call? We drove another 3 hrs North, just to avoid them. like what are the odds?