The only difference is that every now and then, a hapless driver is singled out, waved out of traffic and handed a ticket.

The Wrong Vehicle If anybody is out there cringing, it is the hapless drivers of white vans.

As the hapless driver was struggling to open his crumpled door, a blue IBM business limo came sliding to a stop beside it.

It is more likely that legal action would be considered against the hapless driver.

Three or four fatigue-clad men rode in each vehicle, keeping their weapons trained on the hapless driver.

Crossing the Delaware Memorial Bridge and starting up Interstate 295, the hapless driver looks for the first mileage sign.

With supplies of smuggled fuel dwindling, black-market entrepreneurs dispatched street vendors to prey on hapless drivers puttering along on almost empty tanks.

Cars slide through stop signs, past pedestrians halted in deference to hapless drivers out of control.

Mr. Gooding, clowning it up, is the hapless driver, and Mr. Ulrich is his guide.

Surely, there were other highway interchanges in the great state of New Jersey that exist merely to terrify hapless drivers.