A Near Miss

I have mixed feelings about accepting right-of-way when a driver surrenders it. An incident this morning is a perfect example of why I feel that way.

During my run today, I found myself needing to cross a road, so I was waiting for oncoming traffic to pass. A dump truck operated by our town stopped and waved me across. I headed out into the roadway, and as I entered the opposing lane heard and saw the car behind him accelerating hard to come around him. I picked up my pace to get out of his way. (I think, but am not certain that he slowed back down a bit once he saw me.) Turned, flipped him the bird, looked at him, and went to work to get a description. I got a partial license plate (missing a single digit) and the vehicle make and color. I finished my run by going to the police station, which is near my home in order to file a complaint. After a half-hour of debate/paperwork/license plate checking, I was told that they couldn't identify with sufficient reliability to issue a ticket. I tried!

Since I couldn't get the law to punish him or put fear into him, I can only hope that he had that rush of adrenaline and the ensuing feeling of nausea that often happens when you realize you just did something truly dumb and dangerous. Probably not, self-centered buttheads aren't good at guilt.

Remember, guns don't kill people, dopes with cars do. (OK, dopes with guns get some, too.)