I am a pedestrian and always look to the right. Read the poem of Alexander Kurbatov "The Man Who Bought Vodka" (I didn't get him here whole, it's long enough, only the end).

The man who bought vodka,
I also looked to the left.
Then I wanted to go right.
I watched, but didn’t have time.

The vodka remains.
Her hand shakes her,
very carefully squeezed,
A very dead hand.

Friends still don’t know.
At the table in the store.
Talk about a man,
“To send after death.”

This is what I do, drivers - you have an iconostasis in the car through one. Do not kill, do not kill.