Highway blues
Published:Tuesday | October 5, 2010 | 12:00 AM
Screech! I had been driving merrily along Mandela Highway on my way into Kingston last Thursday morning, when all of a sudden everything came to a complete standstill. Sure, I'd been caught in traffic jams on this roadway before, but this time was different. This time, I flirted all too seriously with the idea of just closing my eyes, sinking my foot on the gas pedal and ramming into the next vehicle to cut me off. Of course, it wouldn't have helped one bit, but it surely would have felt great!
Anyway, there I was in a long line of traffic, slowly inching along at a rate of about a foot per five minutes. The rains that drenched the island last week left the two lanes of the roadway leading into St Catherine under water, so vehicles going in both directions were now sharing only one side of the highway.
As I sat motionless in the car, looking around me at the unfolding catastrophe, there was a tap on my window. It was a scary looking fellow with a single-toothed grin and wide eyes. It was raining slightly so he was holding a tattered blue and white umbrella, and was sporting particularly dark sunglasses, even though it was so murky outside, the streetlights were on.
I cracked the window open, slightly, and inquired what was the matter.
"Boss, me and mi bredrin get stuck out yah inna di rain. Mek we siddung inna di back seat likkle nuh? We waiting on a drive weh nuh reach yet, but like how yuh cyar nah move, just mek we cotch wid yuh likkle," he said.
The man gestured toward a shorter fellow standing about 20 feet away. He was skinny and for some reason, was wearing slippers and short pants. I asked the man why they both didn't just go over to the police station, which was just across the road, to wait until their drive got there. The man paused, then glanced at the back seat of the car.
"Boss, we nuh deal wid police, just let we in man," he said, a cross expression coming across his face. I needed no further prompting. I hurriedly re-closed the window and stepped on the gas to get as far away as possible. Of course, with the traffic, I only got about 10 feet away before I came to another screeching halt. I looked up at the mirror to see the man walking back over to his companion in the short pants. Whew!
Rogue driver
It was here that the rogue driver of a muddy Coaster bus that was speeding along the sidewalk, decided the spot in front of my car was the perfect place to rejoin the line which he had abandoned some ways back.
He stuck his hand out, which, I suppose, was his way of kindly informing me that he was about to swing the mobile sledge hammer right in front of my car. I had only just started moving again, so the bus driver's manoeuvre caused me to have to jam violently on the brakes, which caused the driver behind me to do the same and the driver behind him, and so on.
In my rear view mirror I could see the driver of the car behind me yelling out the window. I figured he shared my anger at the bus driver. It was when he pulled out of the line and beside me that I realised I had it all wrong.
"Oy man! Wah kinda braking dat? Suppose yuh did mek mi lick up? Ah five accident mi have since year, yuh nuh. Yuh ah go pay mi insurance?" he yelled. In the calmest voice I could muster, I inquired whether he had managed to take note of the bus which had moments before cut me off.
The man told me that the bus driver had a right to do whatever he liked, since his vehicle was larger than mine.
It was then that I lost it, unleashing on the stocky driver a violent, profanity-laden tirade that would have made Peter Tosh blush. When it was all over, the driver, a surprised look on his face, quietly said "alright boss, drive safe," and returned to his spot in the line.
I inched further along, slowly. A busty woman in the car next to mine caught my eye. She however, was in no mood for small talk. I realised this when a peanut vendor walking down the middle of the road spotted her and stopped to say hello.
"Baby? Is who yuh calling baby, nasty man? Yuh have helicyaptah fi fly mi outa di traffic? Yuh ah go lift me up and carry mi pan yuh back inna di rain?" she yelled at the vendor who was wearing a rain coat that was much too small for him.
"Baby, mi just..." he said, but got no further as the woman rolled up her window and dismissed him promptly.
I chuckled. The peanut vendor glanced at me and I looked away. He then continued down the road like nothing happened.
In the end, it took about two hours for me to get off Mandela Highway that morning but when I did, I felt like I had aged about two years.
The following are some of the feedback letters to last week's edition of Roving with Lalah.
Dear Robert,
Are you ever coming out with another book of all your writings? I definitely would buy a copy. I really believe you have a strong following that would support you, especially overseas.
- John Johnson
Dear Robert,
As always, this one just had me laughing. As a visual person, I always get a vivid image of your experiences through your words. Thanks much, laughter is good medicine and I get my dosage from Roving with Lalah.
- Larisa MonaMcBean
Dear Robert,
The best thing in local papers!
- S.T.