Daisy Bateman

Rare Proof That There is Justice in the World

Yesterday, when I was near the end of my long commute home (on 980 just before 24, if you must know) I encountered an obnoxious driver. “That driver is obnoxious,” I thought, as he swerved around me while I was signaling a lane change, then almost ran someone who was merging onto the freeway off the road. I kept driving, and came up to the exit for MLK, where you have to merge with the traffic coming in from 24. So I was going along, merging away, when who should come up whipping around the shoulder than my friend from the freeway (somehow, his tricks had gotten him stuck back behind me, which he was now making up for). He came around and cut in two cars ahead of me and he was probably feeling pretty good about himself. But, the thing is, he was so concerned with gaining a few spaces on the rest of us suckers that he didn’t notice the reason everyone else was being so courteous (“After you.” “No, after you.”) was that there was a cop car about four slots back from me. And sure enough, as soon as the road widened again, Mr. Oakland Policeman pulled out around the rest of us, and as I was making my way through the stoplight I got to see him come up behind that guy with his flashers on and pull him over. And I thought, “Ha!”

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