Exiting the bridge yesterday, we watched a patrol car file into traffic, lights spinning round.
“Ooh... someone’s gonna get it,” Brad and I agreed conspiratorially. “But who?”
The cop car pulled ahead casually, and civilians changed lanes to make room, but he didn’t seem to be after any one of them.
Why wasn’t he speeding up? Didn’t he need to speed up? If he’d seen someone driving recklessly, wasn’t he going to lose them if he didn’t go any faster?!
It was puzzling.
And then he swerved. Deeply. First to the left, then to the right. Not once, not twice, but repeatedly, over and over. Cars on all sides of him were being pushed aside as everyone frantically tried to make sense of his erratic behavior. Like a ten-year-old boy, weaving surreptitiously on a dirt bike, he wove back and forth across the highway. Everyone fell back. There was a palpable question mark floating above the arena of cars now corralled behind him.
What the hell was going on?!
Was he drunk? Were we witness to a stolen car?
“We’ve gotta get out of here,” Brad said.
Our off-ramp was less than a mile away, but getting there was starting to look questionable.
Another on-ramp was merging to the left of us.
Swinging wildly across five lanes, he cut off the oncoming traffic and began zigzagging back and forth across the entire spans of overpass.
OK, we were becoming very curious. There had to be something outrageous going on. Was the freeway shut down up ahead? Had there been a major accident? A wild police chase? Why didn’t he have back-up? For as far as the eye could see, there didn’t seem to be a problem. Glancing in the rearview mirror however, there was traffic for miles behind.
“Well, whatever it is,” I said to Brad, “I’m glad to be up here. I’d hate to be trying to get off the bridge right about now.”
We could see our off-ramp, and there were blinking lights illuminating from the shoulder.
“Great!” We exclaimed in unison. “It’s blocking our exit!”
I began mapping out an alternate plan.
As we approached our destination, the police car pulled up onto the shoulder, and then, Horror upon Horrors...!
There was a tow truck. With a tow truck mechanic. Changing a flat tire.
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14 comments:
Reason #109 of uncounted why I hate traffic ;)
I was starting to wonder if there was maybe a kid driving the police car after pulling off an elaborate heist! Bizarre!
Whenever we see police lights or hear sirens, my youngest son turns to my oldest and says, very dramatically, "Well, NOW you've done it, mister!"
Ugh. Hate it when they do that.
Wow, how horrible. The crime of it all - that tow truck driver should get life behind bars!
When the kids see a cop, they always ask "mom are you going to go to jail this time?". Yes, I said "this time". I say it because twice now, on frazzled running late school days, our local "cops" have pulled me over for rolling through a stop sign. They know me by name (not because they pull me over, but because we have a working relationship), and do it just to make me even later - it usually ends with their belly rolling a laugh as they go back to their car!
well I can see that there was great reason to drive like a 5 yr old ...
Our trafic gets bad when a cow gets loose ... lol.
He was clearing the road, says the ex-wife of a police officer.
:-)
4 diff. girl- That's actually what we thought at first... that it was kids who were taking it for a joy ride.
flipflops-That's funny. I've lived where cows get loose, and it sure does slow things down!
MM-Clear it he did. There didn't seem to be a need at the time, but we figured that he was either practicing or teaching someone how to clear for emergencies.
Surprising for those of us caught unexpected!
OK, that was totally griping...until the tow truck. Fur real. You had me!
He did a freeway break for a flat tire?!?!?! Oh jeez, how annoying.
Hey sounds like a Jersey bridge you are describing?
So was the guy drunk or lost or what?
Thanks for your comment!
You had me at the edge of my seat! I was waiting for bullets to start blazing.
The other day we broke down on a parkway, a narrow windy highway where people drive like crazy. We were so nervous waiting for our tow truck until a nice trooper parked himself behind us with flashing lights to protect us from traffic as it got dark.
Idiot. Cops.
I hate when they do that...and of course the tow truck was a top priority. Oi.
By the way...I tagged you.
That seems a might excessive for a tow truck. I would have created an elaborate story in my head about why he was doing it that would have involved a crazing sneezing fit and a cup of hot coffee.
Man traffic is insane, it is around here too. I swear, if a blade of grass moves on the side of the road traffic comes to a screeching halt. That or one drop of rain. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
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