Yesterday while driving through downtown I experienced two of many major construction projects going on simultaneously in our multiple downtown streets. One cannot drive too far in any direction without having to merge two, sometimes three lanes into one lane in order to avoid dropping down a deep hole carved out by some back-hoe surrounded by nearly a dozen helmeted orange-vesters, all gazing down at the guy at the bottom of the hole doing whatever it is he does down there.
1000 feet before each construction site, orange signs flash the warning that construction lies ahead, and another sign indicates that traffic will merge from three lanes, or two lanes into one lane. Some people move to the new lane, while others speed along trying to get as far as they can before having to merge—and this is the lane that usually backs traffic up. All those who passed the 500 foot mark, the 250 foot mark, the 100 foot mark still travel right up against the cones, not bothering to change lanes, are now creating a bottle-neck that causes frustration for themselves. Others who heeded the warning much earlier are in the right place and must give way to those who waited.
Every once in a while, somebody thinks he does not have to obey the warnings. He travels along in his lane to the point that the cones in his lane force him to move over, or else he will break through and drive right into the construction site. Since that’s been done too many times before (much to the consternation of the guy standing in the bottom of the hole), trucks with flashing arrows now park between the site and the traffic that should merge.
I watched this guy in a pickup truck stay in the right-hand lane until he could go no further. More than 100 feet before the final merge, I backed off more than two car lengths for him to move over. He refused. He drove right up against the cones until he realized that he was not going to get around the large orange truck parked in his way, the large orange light flashing for him to move left, the sign showing him to move from the right lane into the left lane.
I wondered if he was going to show the cones (and the truck) who was boss.
I wondered if he was telling himself “I am the road, and there ain’t no holes in me!”
All I could do was shake my head in wonder as he finally realized that he was not going to get his way, and he finally merged to the left, a cone brushing the front fender of his truck.
I can only imagine what would have happened if he continued in his own way, if he had not changed his mind . . . what a disaster.
It was not until after the event that I realized I could have filmed the whole thing on my cell phone . . .
