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Hello, All!
As my login implies, I live in the gloriously crowded state of New Jersey in the good old U.S. of A., the only state in said United States with a population density exceeding that of Japan. We have a LOT of cars on our roads, and that makes life particularly challenging for pedestrians.
I did without a car for almost three years (2003-2006) after my divorce, having been lucky enough to find a job close to a train station and an apartment even closer to another three stops down the line. I ended up that period in fairly good physical condition and in possession of THOUSANDS of alternately hilarious and depressing stories about drivers and their contempt for anything that might get in their way.
The Story This Time: I am proceeding on foot across an intersection close to a major traffic circle (or roundabout, for our Euro-zone buddies). Traffic coming down towards the point at which I am crossing faces a STOP sign: Big red octagon, reflective letters spelling "S-T-O-P", the whole deal. In fact, since it's a one-way road, there are STOP signs on BOTH sides of the roadway...and I am crossing perpendicular to this arrangement, walking in the opposite direction of traffic like a good pedestrian should when there's no sidewalk.
I assume that I have the right-of-way in this arrangement. I have been assured by worthy officers of the NJ State Police that yes indeed, I DO have the right-of-way in this arrangement.
A small sedan comes screaming down the road towards the STOP signs. I do not scurry in the face of oncoming traffic...it demeans us all...unless, of course, I am leaping for my life...so this IDIOT has to brake hard and swerve, all while approaching a STOP sign. He comes to a stop halfway into the intersection and screams out his window, "IT'S NOT THAT KIND OF STOP SIGN!!!"
Mrrrr?
(That's the sound a dog makes when it tilts its head in confusion.)
Pray tell, what kind of STOP sign is it? It certainly LOOKS like the standard red octagon with big reflective letters spelling "S-T-O-P"...
Honestly, I was too dumbstruck by the depth and breadth of his stupidity to reply, and he drove away in a cloud of burnt rubber. Sometimes I wish he'd actually hit me. Not too hard, mind you...just a broken leg or something...but I would have ended up owning that sporty little car, along with his life savings, his house, and his kids' college fund.
As my login implies, I live in the gloriously crowded state of New Jersey in the good old U.S. of A., the only state in said United States with a population density exceeding that of Japan. We have a LOT of cars on our roads, and that makes life particularly challenging for pedestrians.
I did without a car for almost three years (2003-2006) after my divorce, having been lucky enough to find a job close to a train station and an apartment even closer to another three stops down the line. I ended up that period in fairly good physical condition and in possession of THOUSANDS of alternately hilarious and depressing stories about drivers and their contempt for anything that might get in their way.
The Story This Time: I am proceeding on foot across an intersection close to a major traffic circle (or roundabout, for our Euro-zone buddies). Traffic coming down towards the point at which I am crossing faces a STOP sign: Big red octagon, reflective letters spelling "S-T-O-P", the whole deal. In fact, since it's a one-way road, there are STOP signs on BOTH sides of the roadway...and I am crossing perpendicular to this arrangement, walking in the opposite direction of traffic like a good pedestrian should when there's no sidewalk.
I assume that I have the right-of-way in this arrangement. I have been assured by worthy officers of the NJ State Police that yes indeed, I DO have the right-of-way in this arrangement.
A small sedan comes screaming down the road towards the STOP signs. I do not scurry in the face of oncoming traffic...it demeans us all...unless, of course, I am leaping for my life...so this IDIOT has to brake hard and swerve, all while approaching a STOP sign. He comes to a stop halfway into the intersection and screams out his window, "IT'S NOT THAT KIND OF STOP SIGN!!!"
Mrrrr?
(That's the sound a dog makes when it tilts its head in confusion.)
Pray tell, what kind of STOP sign is it? It certainly LOOKS like the standard red octagon with big reflective letters spelling "S-T-O-P"...
Honestly, I was too dumbstruck by the depth and breadth of his stupidity to reply, and he drove away in a cloud of burnt rubber. Sometimes I wish he'd actually hit me. Not too hard, mind you...just a broken leg or something...but I would have ended up owning that sporty little car, along with his life savings, his house, and his kids' college fund.
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