I go to grad school in Athens, which isn't in Atlanta (what?!), so I carpool there with friends most days we have to go up. (Since I haven't checked with these two ladies about privacy, I'm gonna just call 'em Friends 1 and 2. They are kind of like Thing 1 and 2 because they are always found together and are cute but mischievous.) On our ride home the other day, Friend 1 was driving, Friend 2 was sleeping sweetly in the passenger seat, and I was zombie-awake in the backseat behind the driver, staring out the window after a short night's sleep and wishing for the end of school and things generally. We roll to a stop at a late yellow light. Folks on the right side of the intersection inch forward to start turning left (to our oncoming lane) but stop (fortunately), because out of NOWHERE comes this unmarked, dingy black cargo van with a quiet siren and no flashing lights.
This is one of those intersections on 316 where there are two left-turn lanes that divide and veer left to their stop, and then some no man's land with gravel and tiny road and car debris, and then the couple lanes going straight. This van goes by the left side of Friend 1's car, careens through the no man's land going about forty, and sails through the intersection (no braking, no worries) with the quiet siren and the lack of lights. At this point my mouth is open and my brain is filled with all kinds of questions. What if that person first to turn left through the intersection had had their music up and hadn't heard the ridiculously quiet siren? What if it had been later in the light and folks had been going? Would this van driver have even slowed and looked left/right? What if we had been going straight, would he have just run folks off the road? What's the deal? Also what the crap is that van and why is it unmarked with crappy paint and no lights?
Friend 1 goes, "...Did you see that?" I go, "Yeah." We share in the what-the-crap moment.
Lessons learned: Never listen to loud music, never trust other drivers, look before you go across an intersection, say your prayers
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| This vehicle is likely driven by a maniac and you should be vigilant. |
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Tale 2: The Forest Fire
Sometimes when I'm driving I witness disasters. Sometimes they come in the form of truck nuts or jalopies or dualies. Sometimes it's a Ford Five Hundred or a Plymouth Colt.
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| There's a reason they never took high-res pictures of these. |
Anyway, suddenly it gets smoky, my car smells weird (OH NO PEPPER DON'T LET IT OH GOD oh wait), and I notice a smoke-filled section of forest on the southbound side of the highway. Then I see the raging fire. It's got to be at least forty feet long, and it's pretty tall and scary, and there are no responsible-looking fire tenders around. Being from the south, my first thought is, "Huh. Someone must be burning trash in the brush on the side of the highway." But because I am equipped with at least a limited degree of reason, I realize that if I want to maintain the delusion that I'm a good citizen, I should probably tell someone about this.
I call Jamie frantically. Twenty times. I don't know who to call and how to report this, and I need him to tell me, but of course he would be in the shower while the state of Georgia was burning down. I drive along, worried and guilty. Soon I pass a nice blue sign that says "Traffic Information Dial 511" or something. I obediently dial 511 and go through the phone maze ("For traffic information press 1. To report an accident, press 2. To report another incident, press 3") and speak with a nice lady. I give her the mile markers, tell her it's on the southbound side, and assure her that it looks really bad and should be checked out but I don't know, and it didn't really look controlled and there was a lot of smoke, but I don't know. She sounds calm and confident--does she deal with fires like this all the time? I hang up and worry about Bambi dying in the fire, and later my husband asks helpfully, "Isn't that something you should maybe have called 911 about?" And it's true--when I think back to the part of kindergarten when they said "if there's an emergency, call 911, but not as a joke" they may have over-emphasized how much of an emergency it had to be. I feel like if I'm on fire I'd call 911 but if I broke my spleen I'd just be like, "Ehh...it's non-essential right? I'll walk..."
Lessons learned: good citizens report forest fires, and they use 911 to do so; keep aware of visibility issues in Georgia since there isn't any yellow warning signage
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Tale 3: Near Pedestrian Death
At the crossing of Clair(e???)mont and N. Decatur, coming on from the BB&T side of Clair(e???)mont Rd., there is a protective green arrow for the left turn lane. This arrow is impossible to actually go through (it only lets three cars through and they are probably decoys), but strangely enough I am always the first person trying to turn left in the line after the arrow. Each time, I have the disappointment, frustration, and sadness of again narrowly missing the green light, and I have the pressure of five other, angry, snarling, steering-wheel-clawing Atlanta drivers sitting behind me. "Okay," I think to myself. "I'll launch at 4000 RPM and if I don't spin the tires I can probably go through in the five-foot space between those rapidly approaching cars." But then I think about how my family loves me, and I don't go in the five-foot space. I wait until the light is red (probably actually a couple seconds after that, which is when oncoming folks stop running the light), and I turn left quickly so I don't get destroyed by the rabid drivers to my left and right on N. Decatur, who also have to make the most of their respective left-turn arrows.
On every side of this intersection there are crosswalks, and there are clearly lit pedestrian WALK and DON'T WALK signs. When the signs say DON'T WALK, people usually don't. When they say WALK, they do, and I wait courteously and nod if the person misguidedly waves (come on friend, I honestly didn't want to let you go--it's the law--don't ascribe any great kindness to me of all people). All of this makes this particular pedestrian's actions even more ridiculous. To their credit, it was daylight. I guess that was part of their safety check? Hmm, maybe I should run out into the road without warning at a nonstandard pedestrian road entry point...oh wait that might be a bad idea...is it daylight? Oh okay, full steam ahead!
So anyway, I'm in the left turn lane in the intersection, the light turns red, and I turn, quickly, to get out of the way. But immediately, I have to come screeching to a halt, because this pedestrian is running across the middle of the road between the stopped oncoming (N. Decatur) cars (who now have a green light and have to wait for this person). Without making any glances to their right (at ME) despite the age-old adage to "look both ways if you don't want to die," they proceeded to just run in front of my car. I must have been ten feet from them when they ran out in front of me. I slammed on the brakes and they waved at me (now probably two inches from my hood--oh hello to you too?) and kept running across the street. And what was worse, was it wasn't even a run. It was that disgustingly noncommittal stuffy clumsy shuffle-run people do sometimes when they're crossing in front of a projector or a person at a podium, or when they're 60, dressed in bright colors, and running down to greet Bob Barker.
What if I had been looking at my radio to change it? What if I had been older and had had worse reaction time? What if my car had been a foot forward before that person ran out? What if it had been nighttime or my brakes had gone out or any host of other potentially disastrous things?
Lessons learned: don't trust pedestrians, travel through blind corners slowly because there will be people there (maybe having tea in your lane), relax despite all the other mean people on the road
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Tale 4: Gosling Goodness
Basically we were going down Clair(e???)mont in the right lane today, and the driver in front of us cut quickly into the left lane. I followed suit, because there was a freaking goose in the road. I don't care much about geese, so I was gonna be like "well that was weird," but then I saw its goose lover as well as several teeny tiny fluffy clumsy gosling babies (already safe and sound on the grassy curb).
Lessons: don't underestimate geese, always look for goslings in the road
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Photo 1: http://www.towncarsedan.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/11/BlackVan.jpg
Photo 2: http://static.ddmcdn.com/gif/vehicle-pictures/1994/plymouth/colt-vista/92108271990204-260.jpg
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