Heading For Trouble
Mar. 16th, 2009 08:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bloodyrosemccoyI went to the planetarium today with ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sunshine_shaman and toast_zombie. That, however, is not what this post is about. That is a later story, with photos. This post is about the freeway ride home, and how I called 911 for the first time today.
Driving home at rush hour is always a bit of an obstacle course, especially here where construction pops up like daisies in the spring. My sister was staying alert as we wound along in the line of cars headed up the exit towardtoast_zombie’s neighborhood, ready to brake if the car in front of her did.
She wasn’t quite so prepared for what the car did do.
A sudden domino effect of startled car swerves was rippling along the exit toward us, and as the car ahead moved we joined them—
—as an old car with an much older driver cruised along toward us up the shoulder.
“Er,” my sister said, as the dude dreamily passed us.
“Uh,” I said.
“That can’t be good,”toast_zombie observed.
“No … it really can’t …”
None of us was entirely sure what to do next. This was the sort of thing that could result in deaths. My sister kept on driving on the theory that if we stopped or chased him down it would only cause more chaos and havoc, and possibly our personal deaths. However, we felt we should call someone.
“Is this the sort of thing 911 handles?” my sister asked dubiously.
I flipped open my phone. “If not, it’s going to be. They’ll know where to send me.”
I’ve never called them before, and I gotta admit I felt a bit of trepidation as I dialed—this wasn’t the kind of emergency involving power tools and blood shooting a foot from the wound, so I felt a little fraudulent, like the infamous 911 Cheeseburger Lady. I have a dad who works emergency room call, so I know just how very odd people’s sense of “emergency” can get.
It didn’t help that my phone feels this is the kind of number you give extra pomp and circumstance to. “ATTEMPTING EMERGENCY CALL!” it informed me.
“Seriously, phone,” I said to it. “You are not making me feel any less overreactive.”
The dude who answered was cool, though, and listened to the problem. Turns out you don’t call them for this sort of pre-emergency, but he quickly transferred me to somebody who does. So I told the Department Of Investigating Old People Driving In Places They Shouldn’t what we’d seen.
“Can you identify the car make?” the DOIOPDIPTS receptionist asked.
“Er.” I am no good with cars. I have often noted that I identify them using the “Go, Dog, Go!” method, so all I could tell him was that it was a Small Brown Car, and that it had been too fast to note the license plate. Also, it seemed a little unhelpful to say “a car which will be getting a new driver very soon” or “a car that probably should have stayed home today.”
The weird thing is that I have no idea what happened after that. I got thanked and told they were on their way to take a look, and then we dropped offtoast_zombie and went home. With luck I’ll never hear about a ten-car pileup, and they will apprehend the guy and take away his license and he will be bummed but no one will get hurt. And I will feel like I did the Right Thing, even though it wasn’t an emergency yet. Because sometimes you come across a situation where someone’s gonna get hurt, and you gotta do something.
sunshine_shaman and toast_zombie. That, however, is not what this post is about. That is a later story, with photos. This post is about the freeway ride home, and how I called 911 for the first time today.Driving home at rush hour is always a bit of an obstacle course, especially here where construction pops up like daisies in the spring. My sister was staying alert as we wound along in the line of cars headed up the exit toward
toast_zombie’s neighborhood, ready to brake if the car in front of her did.She wasn’t quite so prepared for what the car did do.
A sudden domino effect of startled car swerves was rippling along the exit toward us, and as the car ahead moved we joined them—
—as an old car with an much older driver cruised along toward us up the shoulder.
“Er,” my sister said, as the dude dreamily passed us.
“Uh,” I said.
“That can’t be good,”
toast_zombie observed.“No … it really can’t …”
None of us was entirely sure what to do next. This was the sort of thing that could result in deaths. My sister kept on driving on the theory that if we stopped or chased him down it would only cause more chaos and havoc, and possibly our personal deaths. However, we felt we should call someone.
“Is this the sort of thing 911 handles?” my sister asked dubiously.
I flipped open my phone. “If not, it’s going to be. They’ll know where to send me.”
I’ve never called them before, and I gotta admit I felt a bit of trepidation as I dialed—this wasn’t the kind of emergency involving power tools and blood shooting a foot from the wound, so I felt a little fraudulent, like the infamous 911 Cheeseburger Lady. I have a dad who works emergency room call, so I know just how very odd people’s sense of “emergency” can get.
It didn’t help that my phone feels this is the kind of number you give extra pomp and circumstance to. “ATTEMPTING EMERGENCY CALL!” it informed me.
“Seriously, phone,” I said to it. “You are not making me feel any less overreactive.”
The dude who answered was cool, though, and listened to the problem. Turns out you don’t call them for this sort of pre-emergency, but he quickly transferred me to somebody who does. So I told the Department Of Investigating Old People Driving In Places They Shouldn’t what we’d seen.
“Can you identify the car make?” the DOIOPDIPTS receptionist asked.
“Er.” I am no good with cars. I have often noted that I identify them using the “Go, Dog, Go!” method, so all I could tell him was that it was a Small Brown Car, and that it had been too fast to note the license plate. Also, it seemed a little unhelpful to say “a car which will be getting a new driver very soon” or “a car that probably should have stayed home today.”
The weird thing is that I have no idea what happened after that. I got thanked and told they were on their way to take a look, and then we dropped off
toast_zombie and went home. With luck I’ll never hear about a ten-car pileup, and they will apprehend the guy and take away his license and he will be bummed but no one will get hurt. And I will feel like I did the Right Thing, even though it wasn’t an emergency yet. Because sometimes you come across a situation where someone’s gonna get hurt, and you gotta do something.
