Lately, driving around the neighborhood has become a real chore. It’s not like I have a lot of choices; there are only three roads in, and they’re all twisting two-lane roads at that. There are four or five developments connected by these roads, and each has its own series of “road humps” to slow the flow of traffic.
In a traditional grid layout of a city, if a road is closed for repair, a quick detour of two or three blocks is an easy solution. Not in my case. Of the three “arteries,” one was closed in both lanes, and another was semi-closed with a wait of about half an hour.
Of course, this meant that the third road was completely full, crawling along like the Bay Bridge in commuter traffic. Worse yet, these people weren’t professional commuters; it was brutal.
I was making a right turn to avoid some “speed humps” directly ahead. It helps to have local knowledge. A newer white pickup slowed to let me in. I silently thanked him and raised my hand.
Suddenly, the road widened, and he was directly to my left, yelling at me. I slowed down; he slowed down. I thought he might have misinterpreted my gesture, then he yelled, “I can fix that!”
I was confused; I didn’t know what he was yelling about. My 18 lb. Maltipoo Tyson was looking out the window at him. So I thought, “Tyson is already fixed, except for some obnoxious behavior that he can’t know about.” So, I verbally responded, “What do you mean?”
“That dent in the quarter panel, below the door. I can fix it; pull over and I’ll give you a quote.”
Pulling over for strangers is not something I like to do. On top of that, I was still very confused because I couldn’t quite let go of the idea that he was talking about my dog. Does he have an operating room in his basement? Perhaps he’s taking an online class to be a veterinarian, and is willing to pay me to fix my dog?
I think that last thought was still fresh in my mind even after he said he was asking about the dent in my quarter-panel. So, I waved him off, letting him know I wasn’t going to pull over for him. I yelled, perhaps too loudly, “Besides, I don’t know why you want to pay me to fix my dented quarter-panel!”
His face changed dramatically as he hit his brakes, letting me zoom forward. I can see now that my confusion was viral and spreading quickly.
I checked my rear-view mirrors and saw that he was in the process of a tight U-turn. He didn’t want the risk of being behind me as the road was getting very twisty and rural.
A Work Progressing 
Fix it?
Lately, driving around the neighborhood has become a real chore. It’s not like I have a lot of choices; there are only three roads in, and they’re all twisting two-lane roads at that. There are four or five developments connected by these roads, and each has its own series of “road humps” to slow the flow of traffic.
In a traditional grid layout of a city, if a road is closed for repair, a quick detour of two or three blocks is an easy solution. Not in my case. Of the three “arteries,” one was closed in both lanes, and another was semi-closed with a wait of about half an hour.
Of course, this meant that the third road was completely full, crawling along like the Bay Bridge in commuter traffic. Worse yet, these people weren’t professional commuters; it was brutal.
I was making a right turn to avoid some “speed humps” directly ahead. It helps to have local knowledge. A newer white pickup slowed to let me in. I silently thanked him and raised my hand.
Suddenly, the road widened, and he was directly to my left, yelling at me. I slowed down; he slowed down. I thought he might have misinterpreted my gesture, then he yelled, “I can fix that!”
I was confused; I didn’t know what he was yelling about. My 18 lb. Maltipoo Tyson was looking out the window at him. So I thought, “Tyson is already fixed, except for some obnoxious behavior that he can’t know about.” So, I verbally responded, “What do you mean?”
“That dent in the quarter panel, below the door. I can fix it; pull over and I’ll give you a quote.”
Pulling over for strangers is not something I like to do. On top of that, I was still very confused because I couldn’t quite let go of the idea that he was talking about my dog. Does he have an operating room in his basement? Perhaps he’s taking an online class to be a veterinarian, and is willing to pay me to fix my dog?
I think that last thought was still fresh in my mind even after he said he was asking about the dent in my quarter-panel. So, I waved him off, letting him know I wasn’t going to pull over for him. I yelled, perhaps too loudly, “Besides, I don’t know why you want to pay me to fix my dented quarter-panel!”
His face changed dramatically as he hit his brakes, letting me zoom forward. I can see now that my confusion was viral and spreading quickly.
I checked my rear-view mirrors and saw that he was in the process of a tight U-turn. He didn’t want the risk of being behind me as the road was getting very twisty and rural.
A wise move!
Share this: