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Traffic was bad on the freeway tonight. So I took surface streets. Others had the same idea. Such is life. But when I got to Tualatin, we had a little scenelet that makes me wonder about my fellow drivers' grasp on reality. There is an intersection there. It's always a pain. Left turn is a little commercial area; few make the left turn. Right turn is a larger commercial area with a Haggen grocery store; more turn right. Straight ahead is a good bypass route for I-5 into Wilsonville and, if you turn left or right at the next light, you are on a major road headed to bypass one highway or drive straight to I-5 (depending on the direction turned).
Okay, so you know that this is going to be grim, because one leg of that goes to I-5. And the light cycle is this bizarre thing where straight goes first, then left, because it's the only way the other lights mesh. But it works. I get up to the intersection and stop, because the light is turning red.
And a fire engine comes through, sirens going. The light resets. The light one ahead of us, the big-road one, turns green. And of course, no one goes through, because they are letting the fire engine pass. It does so...and the light immediately changes again behind it. Not sure if that was timing or what, but...it stank.
Then, the ambulance comes through. Same routine...just as the light ahead of us should be letting people through. SIGH.
Then, our light turns green right after the ambulance. I sit right where I am: the truck in front of me has his read tires in the crosswalk, and the crosswalk there is right on the edge of the intersection. I'd block the left-turners from the grocery store if I pulled forward, to say nothing of the folks in the right-turn lane.
Behind me, someone honks. And honks again. And honks again. And then the light turns yellow and he leans on it. And then the light turns red, two fellows to our left cross straight into the grocery store parking lot, and the guy behind me honks again.
What, exactly, was he honking for? Did he think I should just pull into the non-existent space that wasn't waiting for me? Was he angry that the people ahead of us were not going through their (red) light? If he was mad at the emergency services (a stupid thing to be, considering), he was way too late for them to hear and I doubt they would have cared anyway. Buddy, crap happens. So you sat there for what would have been two full light cycles, if the light had been allowed to cycle normally.
So did the rest of us. Honking at us doesn't change a bloody thing, and you know what? After all that, traffic opened up nicely as the lights resumed their normal pattern. It's not like we were stuck in gridlock for hours there. It's not like it takes that long.
And I thought I needed to learn patience. (Maybe I still do, though. In amongst the amused disgust, I was getting fairly impatient with Mr. I-can-be-loud-so-there....)
Okay, so you know that this is going to be grim, because one leg of that goes to I-5. And the light cycle is this bizarre thing where straight goes first, then left, because it's the only way the other lights mesh. But it works. I get up to the intersection and stop, because the light is turning red.
And a fire engine comes through, sirens going. The light resets. The light one ahead of us, the big-road one, turns green. And of course, no one goes through, because they are letting the fire engine pass. It does so...and the light immediately changes again behind it. Not sure if that was timing or what, but...it stank.
Then, the ambulance comes through. Same routine...just as the light ahead of us should be letting people through. SIGH.
Then, our light turns green right after the ambulance. I sit right where I am: the truck in front of me has his read tires in the crosswalk, and the crosswalk there is right on the edge of the intersection. I'd block the left-turners from the grocery store if I pulled forward, to say nothing of the folks in the right-turn lane.
Behind me, someone honks. And honks again. And honks again. And then the light turns yellow and he leans on it. And then the light turns red, two fellows to our left cross straight into the grocery store parking lot, and the guy behind me honks again.
What, exactly, was he honking for? Did he think I should just pull into the non-existent space that wasn't waiting for me? Was he angry that the people ahead of us were not going through their (red) light? If he was mad at the emergency services (a stupid thing to be, considering), he was way too late for them to hear and I doubt they would have cared anyway. Buddy, crap happens. So you sat there for what would have been two full light cycles, if the light had been allowed to cycle normally.
So did the rest of us. Honking at us doesn't change a bloody thing, and you know what? After all that, traffic opened up nicely as the lights resumed their normal pattern. It's not like we were stuck in gridlock for hours there. It's not like it takes that long.
And I thought I needed to learn patience. (Maybe I still do, though. In amongst the amused disgust, I was getting fairly impatient with Mr. I-can-be-loud-so-there....)