Early this afternoon I'm driving eastbound on 465 on the south side of town, when the guy in the lane next to me decides to YOLO into my lane without looking or signaling. I can't dodge without putting myself into a cement construction barrier (of course), so he bumps me a little. Pretty minor scrapes and a ding on my car, a little worse on his. We drive past the construction zone and pull over at the 65 interchange.
I sit on hold with IMPD for five minutes, get bumped to ISP, and they dispatch a cruiser for a report. We sit on the side of the road for an hour, during which time I learn that the guy driving isn't the owner, it's his passenger's car. I put two and two together pretty quick and figure out she probably doesn't have insurance. That's fun. I hand out a couple bottles of water and we sit and wait.
Eventually the trooper shows up. Straight out of central casting, young, lean, mustache. Swear to god he looks at his reflection in the window and fixes his hat before walking up. I tell him what happened, hand over my info, he gets what he can from the other people, and he goes back to the cruiser. So he's in the cruiser, the other driver and passenger are huddled in their car, and I'm standing in the open leaning against my car. Because, you know, it's important to look cool.
Here's the weird part: While I'm standing there, two old jalopies pull over onto the shoulder behind the cruiser. I think "all right, Player Three has entered the game". A short, skinny older man who looks vaguely Jamaican hops out and makes a beeline straight for me. Walks past the cruiser with the lights on. Walks past the other car. Walks straight up to me. Big smile on his face, couple teeth missing. He's close to the ethnicity of the lady in the car, so I'm thinking "Dad? Actual owner of the car? Come to sort this out/dump my body at the side of the road?".
Nope. He starts asking me how to get to Mooresville. Directions. He explains that with the weekend ramp closures on the south side, he got lost and can't figure out his GPS and needs instructions for how to get turned around and heading back westbound towards Mooresville. I ask him "so, you're not involved in any of this?", and he just goes "huh? No" and looks behind him like he's noticing it all for the first time.
I didn't know what to do. I just gave him the directions. I pointed out that he needed to skip the 65 ramp, because it was an interstate, and go down to the next one and use one of the stoplights to u-turn and get back on 465WB. He smiles again, says thanks, walks back to his car, and he and the second car in his little convoy put on their signals and drive off.
I do not think the trooper looked up from his computer once during this entire interaction.
Eventually trooper comes up and gives me my documents back. I ask about the lady's insurance, and ehhhhh looks like they're working on it. Again, fun. Now I'm waiting on him to ask me what that whole thing with Player Three was about. He doesn't. He doesn't acknowledge it at all. Now I'm actually wondering if I hallucinated the entire conversation. I can't leave it at that, so I pipe up and tell him about the guy asking for directions. His response? "Huh? Oh, okay. Well drive safe, we're all set here."
Let me ask y'all this, as guys who have been alive on this earth for a ***long*** time: Have you ever once in your life been lost on the road, observed a police officer on an active traffic accident or traffic stop, and decided that the proper course of action is not to ask the (currently occupied) police officer for directions, but to bypass him entirely in favor of asking the subject of the traffic stop?
It's weird out there. I hope he found his way to Mooresville.
I sit on hold with IMPD for five minutes, get bumped to ISP, and they dispatch a cruiser for a report. We sit on the side of the road for an hour, during which time I learn that the guy driving isn't the owner, it's his passenger's car. I put two and two together pretty quick and figure out she probably doesn't have insurance. That's fun. I hand out a couple bottles of water and we sit and wait.
Eventually the trooper shows up. Straight out of central casting, young, lean, mustache. Swear to god he looks at his reflection in the window and fixes his hat before walking up. I tell him what happened, hand over my info, he gets what he can from the other people, and he goes back to the cruiser. So he's in the cruiser, the other driver and passenger are huddled in their car, and I'm standing in the open leaning against my car. Because, you know, it's important to look cool.
Here's the weird part: While I'm standing there, two old jalopies pull over onto the shoulder behind the cruiser. I think "all right, Player Three has entered the game". A short, skinny older man who looks vaguely Jamaican hops out and makes a beeline straight for me. Walks past the cruiser with the lights on. Walks past the other car. Walks straight up to me. Big smile on his face, couple teeth missing. He's close to the ethnicity of the lady in the car, so I'm thinking "Dad? Actual owner of the car? Come to sort this out/dump my body at the side of the road?".
Nope. He starts asking me how to get to Mooresville. Directions. He explains that with the weekend ramp closures on the south side, he got lost and can't figure out his GPS and needs instructions for how to get turned around and heading back westbound towards Mooresville. I ask him "so, you're not involved in any of this?", and he just goes "huh? No" and looks behind him like he's noticing it all for the first time.
I didn't know what to do. I just gave him the directions. I pointed out that he needed to skip the 65 ramp, because it was an interstate, and go down to the next one and use one of the stoplights to u-turn and get back on 465WB. He smiles again, says thanks, walks back to his car, and he and the second car in his little convoy put on their signals and drive off.
I do not think the trooper looked up from his computer once during this entire interaction.
Eventually trooper comes up and gives me my documents back. I ask about the lady's insurance, and ehhhhh looks like they're working on it. Again, fun. Now I'm waiting on him to ask me what that whole thing with Player Three was about. He doesn't. He doesn't acknowledge it at all. Now I'm actually wondering if I hallucinated the entire conversation. I can't leave it at that, so I pipe up and tell him about the guy asking for directions. His response? "Huh? Oh, okay. Well drive safe, we're all set here."
Let me ask y'all this, as guys who have been alive on this earth for a ***long*** time: Have you ever once in your life been lost on the road, observed a police officer on an active traffic accident or traffic stop, and decided that the proper course of action is not to ask the (currently occupied) police officer for directions, but to bypass him entirely in favor of asking the subject of the traffic stop?
It's weird out there. I hope he found his way to Mooresville.
