29 December 2005
The beginning of the end
Am I the only person who understands that, when you turn from one road onto another, you don't cross more lanes than required?
It's bad enough that the clown coming toward me (in the far lane as I'm making a right turn) flashes his high-beams at me as I roll into the near lane and accelerate to 45 mph (the posted limit). Either car or driver lacks the fortitude to close the 15 or so yards between us.
A quarter mile later, the light turns to yellow (that's amber for any Brits who may be reading). I'm back from the solid white lane divider - these lines seem to mark the safe stopping distance before an intersection, though I've never seen anything that documents that supposition - as I spy one of Virginia Beach's Finest waiting for the opposing light to turn green. I pull to a stop as the light turns red.
Remember the clown who couldn't pass me? Apparently his brakes didn't work either - 'cause there he flew through the red light as Officer Law started pulling out. Mr High-Beam must have been on the upside of a serious kharmic ditch, because justice was not served that day - or maybe the doughnuts were getting cold. Either way, Virginia Beach's Slackest cruised straight through the light, ignoring Our Boy and heading back to the Police House.
Oh well...
It's bad enough that the clown coming toward me (in the far lane as I'm making a right turn) flashes his high-beams at me as I roll into the near lane and accelerate to 45 mph (the posted limit). Either car or driver lacks the fortitude to close the 15 or so yards between us.
A quarter mile later, the light turns to yellow (that's amber for any Brits who may be reading). I'm back from the solid white lane divider - these lines seem to mark the safe stopping distance before an intersection, though I've never seen anything that documents that supposition - as I spy one of Virginia Beach's Finest waiting for the opposing light to turn green. I pull to a stop as the light turns red.
Remember the clown who couldn't pass me? Apparently his brakes didn't work either - 'cause there he flew through the red light as Officer Law started pulling out. Mr High-Beam must have been on the upside of a serious kharmic ditch, because justice was not served that day - or maybe the doughnuts were getting cold. Either way, Virginia Beach's Slackest cruised straight through the light, ignoring Our Boy and heading back to the Police House.
Oh well...
