Sunday, January 21, 2018

Right Lane, Wrong Road

I’ve written about this before and while I hesitate to recycle old material, it is evidently that time of year again—meet a car on my side of the freeway season! Not that there is an actual season, at least I hope not. Besides, a season would suggest a regular spate of fruit, ripe for the harvest. In other words, me meeting a lot of vehicles going the wrong way. And I’d rather limit those incidents. But, I don’t think it’s up to me. In any case, perhaps “season” was not the best choice of words.

As you’ve most likely guessed, last week, I was once again privileged to run across (and not into) a car coming toward me on the freeway. This happens occasionally, or frequently, since it hasn’t been that long since the last time.

I was only a couple of miles from my exit, finishing up my night and going home, when the unmistakable shine of headlights on my side of the median told me my uneventful night might turn out to be a little interesting. With a combined speed of around 140 mph, a guy doesn’t have a lot of time to react when this happens. I was able to determine the vehicle was in the left lane—which they usually are since the disoriented driver THINKS they’re in the right lane. (Like how I refrained from saying the driver was an idiot?)

I flashed my lights repeatedly; hoping whoever was behind the wheel would see the error of their way. No such luck though; the driver kept right on cruising and simply flashed their lights back, presumably to show me they weren’t driving with their high beams on, which was thoughtful of them. Still, I’d prefer they just drove on their own side of the road. Call me crazy but I’d feel much safer having a headlight dual with some sort of barrier separating us.

I tried to get a look at the driver as the car zoomed past but couldn’t see much. By this time, other drivers were aware of what was going on and the CB was blaring away. Someone said they’d called 911; others were strategizing on how to stop the car before there was a major crash. Figuring there was nothing I could do, I took my exit and headed home, glad to be done dealing with the insanity.

Then, two days later—or two nights, since I drive at night—the insanity returned. On the road ahead of me was another fast-approaching set of lights. The lights of a semi this time. A car is bad enough but a semi? Really?

Thankfully, again there was no crash. But now I’m a little leery every time I head off down the road. A pattern seems to be developing here. On second thought, perhaps “season” was a good choice of words after all. ~


Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

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