One Man's "Going Straight" Is Another Man's "Passing On The Left"

"Ed, I don't know if I'm going to be able to pick her up today," I say as I stare forlornly at the road. I've become fixated on the way the shattered plastic crunches as traffic slowly grinds it into the road. That's my plastic, I think dispationately. I wonder if I'm a little bit in shock?

Yeah, I probably am. Otherwise I might be pissed.

That intersection kinda sucks. Two side roads, but not directly across from each other, so if you need to turn left you have to cross the whole intersection first. The oncoming traffic almost always wants to turn left as well, and they almost always drift into your lane a little bit as they do it. So you have to jog to the right a little. To get past them. Before you turn left.

Which is all fine, as long as the guy behind you is patient. It's all good as long as the guy behind you pays any attention to your turn signal which says you're going to turn left. It's all good, in other words, as long as the guy behind you doesn't handle the situation by beeping at you and accelerating.

Cause if he does that, you turn right into him.

Then you get to watch your own signal light explode in a shower of orange plastic.

And then you get to pull over and wait for the police to come get "your side" of the story.

And you get to call your boss and explain why he has to go take care of transporting your parishioner from the hospital to the nursing home.

And then you can get to become fixated on the way the shattered plastic crunches as traffic slowly grinds it into the road.

That's my plastic,

What's taking the police so long anyway?