I’m a semi driver by trade and I see a lot of stupidity on the roads, but this one still takes the cake.
Last fall, I was on a pretty busy road making a left turn into a small, two-lane industrial park. Very standard move and part of my regular route, I’ve made this turn here about fifty or sixty times before. With the available turning space and the length of my truck, the end of my trailer drags through the oncoming lane for a few feet; it’s very common on smaller roads and not a big deal, I wait until the space is clear and if anyone approaches while I’m turning, they yield until I’m through the turn. Happens twenty times a day.
Not today, though. Today, the world’s most important man is out on the road, and he’ll stop for nothing, laws of the road and physics be damned. Halfway through my turn, Captain Dipshit comes flying up the road, screeches to a halt, and lays on his horn. I can see that if I keep going through my turn, I’ll crush his car like a beer can with my trailer, so I stop mid-turn. Boomer is honking madly and I can see him screaming through his windshield. Whatever.
At this point, I’m wedged in place. If I go forward, I’ll hit Boomer; if I go backward, I’ll be blind backing onto a busy road and I wouldn’t do that for a winning lottery ticket. All that’s left to do is set my air brakes and wait for the lead-caked synapses in Boomer’s brain to figure things out. Fat chance.
After a solid fifteen seconds of laying on the horn, Boomer puts his car in park and gets out to come storming up to my window. His fat face is the color of a tomato and he starts doing that Boomer thing where they shake their finger at you. Asshole that I am, I smile and wave at him, which just pisses him off more. He climbs up the steps of my truck and tries to open the door, then starts knocking on the window when he figures out it’s locked. I roll the window halfway down and put on my old retail Customer Service Voice.
“Can I help you, sir?”
“You’re in my way! You need to move right now!”
“Sir, I can’t go forwards or backwards without hitting you or another car. If you would back up just a few feet, I’ll be able to clear your car and be out of your way.”
“I’m not going to move, you’re in my way! You’re obstructing traffic!”
“Then we’ll just sit here, I guess.”
I pivot in my seat, throw my feet up on the console, and pull out my phone. At this point, I’m blocking both lanes of traffic on this small road and cars are backing up on the larger road to turn in.
“You’re obstructing traffic and endangering people! I’m calling the police and they’ll arrest you!”
“You do that.” I roll up my window without looking up from my phone.
He stalks back to his car, gets in, and starts yelling into his phone. As he’s yelling at what I can only assume is some poor 911 operator not getting paid enough, I see a police officer come from behind my truck and start walking towards my cab. She looks around, clocks the angry Boomer on the phone and where he’s parked, and climbs up onto my steps.
“Did you hit his car?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Is he refusing to back up?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She sighs. “Sit tight.”
She walks back and taps on his window. He gets out of the car, gesturing at me and yelling at her. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but he’s obviously getting angrier and I’m starting to wonder if he’ll have a stroke before he can move his car. By this point two other officers have joined the conversation and one of them, a brick shithouse in a bulletproof vest, starts leaning over Boomer and gesturing towards my truck.
Boomer gets back into his car, slams the door, backs up, and as I pass by, he gets back out of the car and starts looking at the ground as one of the officers pulls out a notepad.
I come to find out from my friends working in the industrial park that he’s a known nuisance in the area and this was evidently the last straw for these cops, who hear from him about petty Boomer concerns every few days. They confirmed he was hit with tickets for obstructing traffic, aggressive driving, and failure to yield. The cherry on top was that his “Back the Blue” bumper sticker didn’t help one bit.