I was considering Grover as I tooled out of Parkland, and pulled up to the intersection of Bradley and Country Fair, where I make a right turn. As I got to the front, a driver swung into the left hand turn lane approaching. My policy is: I’ve got the right of way, but if you are going to proceed I’ll yield and give you room. That’s what the Vulnerable Minorities do if they want to stay alive, you know.
So the driver in question seemed unsure… not proceeding, no… you are proceeding… so I pause mid turn so you can swing by — except that you’re proceeding
Right At Me.
As in, aiming toward the lightpost to my right.
Welp, I figure I’d better do some proceeding of my own, and I do — I love the math that when we’re goin’ perpendicular, I am out of your way effectively.
You proceed to where you can’t proceed anymore because curbs and lightposts are in the way, but I’m not sure what your motivation is, so I have pulled over, ready to hop the curb and get behind something if you aim yourself at me again… but a horn or two honks and you maneuver and then drive right past me without so much as a by-your-leave. (When’s the last time you heard that ;P )
“Sail On” says the license plate (with perhaps a number or other character after the N). I’m thinking “If you’re going to drive like that, you shouldn’t have a vanity tag.”
A windshield rolls down and a woman asks me, “What was *that* all about?” I’m still processing. “I don’t know.”
“That was a very old driver. You’re very lucky.” Then her light changed and we went our ways…
I don’t know how close things really were or how lucky I really was (I don’t have a good sense of space, which has probably saved my skin a few times because I don’t get scared; I think about three seconds later that “oh, my, based on the breeze, that was amazingly close.” — there was no breeze here ’cause we were moving slowly). I do fervently hope that everybody who saw it, especially the idiot behind the wheel of sails on, is more careful for a while… and I kinda wished I had hopped the sidewalk as I sometimes do for that stretch, but there had been a dog walking man on it. I also considered that had I been truly lightless and invisible, the driver might have just made the turn properly.
we’re *all* vulnerable…