Scoot Commute

Doesn’t everyone’s morning commute include a drug deal and a murderous Murano?

Posted in Buddy St. Tropez (Franz Biberkopf), Daily Commute by sbahn on 2010/10/01

Supposedly the remnants of tropical storm Nicole are to hit little Rhode Island today, but am I seriously going to let  60mph winds, heavy rain and wet leaves get me into my car…I don’t think so. Only snow and/or ice does that.

It’s not raining when I head out for work. The commute starts out quietly enough; a lot of traffic on Elmwood Avenue, but everyone is behaving for the most part. The pullout onto Westminster isn’t bad, either, even with three cars and a van in front of me. Everyone seemed to be paying attention to their driving.

I make my quick right short-cut by the bodega and come up to the light at Broadway. There’s one car in front of me with two guys all slouched down, doing the hood thing but they look like they’re from Johnston. The light is red. A guy on a cellphone walks up to the passenger side of the car and there’s a quick exchange. Great. Just what I need on a Friday commute. And all the holier-than-thou suburbanites go on and on about how crappy Providence is when it’s their stupid punk offspring who come into town to buy drugs or pay for sex.

The light turned green and they sat there. I honked and the driver perked up and went straight to get on Route 6. Just as I suspected. Go back to your little suburban house where mommy and daddy provide you with all the cash you need to keep my people earning a living.

Nice job, DC 375.

I took my two new shortcuts today and they seem to be working out well. As I was nearing campus, I saw one of the philosophy profs walking toward school. I didn’t see an umbrella and I was thinking about how wet he’s going to be if it does, indeed, rain as much as the radio was bleating out this morning.

I’m on my final cut-through street, I see the white Murano preparing to back out of its driveway. I say “the” because I go by this house every day and often see the Murano. That and it’s parked at a house next to two faculty members. And it’s a Murano, my most hated automobile on the roads today as the worst behavior I’ve seen exhibited by automobile drivers has been by those driving Muranos. This goes back to my old, very long commuting days. Even the contractor pick-up drivers are better than Murano drivers. I really hate them.

There’s a woman driving and she is turned, looking behind her. Or at least that was her pose, but I don’t think anything was registering in her brain. I was waiting for the red brakelights to come on, but nothing. I pulled a wide swerve to the left as she continued to back up into the street. I gave a honk on the Stebel as I was going around, which got her attention because she stopped. I proceeded up to the stop sign at the corner of the street, which was about 50 feet, and just waited. I twisted my body around and wanted to see the woman’s face. She didn’t move. The car was frozen in the middle of the street.

I waited. She finally put the car in drive and proceeded, very, very, very slowly up the street in my direction. I kept staring. I got nothing from her. Not an “I’m sorry” look, not a meek wave, nothing. Maybe she’ll actually see the next time she is looking.

I pull up onto campus and into my spot. My student worker is walking by and comes over to say hello. I’m still a bit shaken, but we get right into a conversation so it was good because she got my mind off of Mrs. Murano, mistress of murder and mayhem.

Just another Friday morning.

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