Car vs. Pedestrian on San Pablo
Yesterday I was driving to work in the grey drizzle. Most of my morning drive is composed of creeping down San Pablo Avenue, a boulevard that stretches from Richmond all the way to Oakland and is lined with (depending on your coordinates) with auto shops, liquor stores, boutiques, ethnic restaurants, thrift stores, and prostitutes. I don't mind San Pablo Avenue itslef; it's driving on it that gets my goat. True, I'd rather be stuck in San Pablo traffic than highway gridlock, but there's an abundance of stoplights, bus stops, crosswalks, and freight trucks unloading in traffic lanes with their hazard lighs flashing.
You have to be extra careful for pedestrians and bike riders on San Pablo, because they can be dumb. There's a five-block stretch where people traverse the street wherever they damn well please, no matter how many cars are moving along or at what speeds these cars travel. I think they *want* to get hit. I think they either have a death wish, or they want to get their bones broken so they can sue you. These people piss me off, but I don't want to hurt anyone...and I don't want to get sued.
I try to be a defensive driver, looking out for bikers dressed all in black with no helmets and no blinky things on their bies when they ride at night in the rain. Looking out for mothers with strollers ambling across the street and for homeless dudes pushing rusty shopping carts full of overstuffed castoff plastic shopping bags. And for busses, which lumber up and down San Pablo at all hours, tying up the flow of traffic with their frequent stops.
I'm all for riding busses (even though I myself do not), so I try to be patient with them. But this one day I was driving along and the bus in front of me pulled over to the stop, forcing me to shift lanes so I could pass it. The bus lingered there for some time without any passengers boarding or disembarking, and I wondered what was up.
Suddenly this kid, dressed in a black hooded sweatshirt with a black backpack, sprints into the street. I was not moving fast, but I didn't want to stop--"I'm a moving car, goddamn it," I thought to myself. "This time, the kid will stop. *I* won't, but the kid will. Fuck this shit. I don't run into oncoming traffic, so other people have to learn no to."
This kid was not ready to learn. He did not slow down, did not budge from his trajectory. He ran in front of my car and I slammed on my breaks and honked my horn and yelled "use the fucking crosswalk, dipshit!", even though my windos were up and no one could hear me but me.
Once he finished crossing the street, I looked into my side view mirror and saw the kid stumbling onto the bus. That's when I realized that the bus driver had been waiting for him.
I felt bad for not thinking of this, and I felt bad for this kid who was so desperate not to miss his bus that he was willing to risk his life. Smart.
But I don't feel bad about it now. Me, I'd rathe rmiss my bus and not have any broken legs, thanks.
You have to be extra careful for pedestrians and bike riders on San Pablo, because they can be dumb. There's a five-block stretch where people traverse the street wherever they damn well please, no matter how many cars are moving along or at what speeds these cars travel. I think they *want* to get hit. I think they either have a death wish, or they want to get their bones broken so they can sue you. These people piss me off, but I don't want to hurt anyone...and I don't want to get sued.
I try to be a defensive driver, looking out for bikers dressed all in black with no helmets and no blinky things on their bies when they ride at night in the rain. Looking out for mothers with strollers ambling across the street and for homeless dudes pushing rusty shopping carts full of overstuffed castoff plastic shopping bags. And for busses, which lumber up and down San Pablo at all hours, tying up the flow of traffic with their frequent stops.
I'm all for riding busses (even though I myself do not), so I try to be patient with them. But this one day I was driving along and the bus in front of me pulled over to the stop, forcing me to shift lanes so I could pass it. The bus lingered there for some time without any passengers boarding or disembarking, and I wondered what was up.
Suddenly this kid, dressed in a black hooded sweatshirt with a black backpack, sprints into the street. I was not moving fast, but I didn't want to stop--"I'm a moving car, goddamn it," I thought to myself. "This time, the kid will stop. *I* won't, but the kid will. Fuck this shit. I don't run into oncoming traffic, so other people have to learn no to."
This kid was not ready to learn. He did not slow down, did not budge from his trajectory. He ran in front of my car and I slammed on my breaks and honked my horn and yelled "use the fucking crosswalk, dipshit!", even though my windos were up and no one could hear me but me.
Once he finished crossing the street, I looked into my side view mirror and saw the kid stumbling onto the bus. That's when I realized that the bus driver had been waiting for him.
I felt bad for not thinking of this, and I felt bad for this kid who was so desperate not to miss his bus that he was willing to risk his life. Smart.
But I don't feel bad about it now. Me, I'd rathe rmiss my bus and not have any broken legs, thanks.
posted by Lefty at 1:59 PM
1 Comments:
I was almost hit while trying to cross San Pablo Ave. I could have died that day. But, I was spared and now am very careful when it comes to crossing that busy street.
eh!
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