After I’d dropped off Destroyer, and walked 21 blocks north and 17 blocks east to get to Walgreens’ to buy Christmas lights, and then had somebody ask me for money (Cushtie carries no cash, sorry), and walked to a bike shop to buy clothes to stop myself getting run over in the dark, and then gone home again and had some soup, it was time to go and pick up Destroyer.
So I ordered an Uber as the rain began to fall, and five minutes later a chap in one of the omnipresent Priuses arrived to transport me.
We got down to 24th and while I was looking at my phone there was the blare of a horn and my driver overtook a car that was stationary in the street. The driver began to sympathise with me about how some people can’t drive properly, and I was in that strange awkward position of having to agree with somebody when I wasn’t sure I agreed. We drove on for a few more blocks and then there was the flash of blue and red lights, and the whoop whoop whoop of the police siren.
The driver pulled over. In the UK, you get out of the car at a traffic stop. In the US, as I understand it, if you do that then you get shot. So I stayed put in the back seat, as the minutes ticked down towards Destroyer’s pick up.
Eventually the police came over and told my driver he shouldn’t have overtaken in an intersection (the car that had stopped in front of him was pausing to let a pedestrian cross). My driver pointed out that he was 72. I’m not sure what kind of defence this is for almost running somebody over.
However, the police eventually figured this was enough, and let him drive off without even getting a ticket, just as I’d begun to think I should make a break from the back seat and sprint to pick up Destroyer. Probably best I didn’t do that.
The rest of the day was mostly putting lights on trees and taking buses which had worrying smells in them. I’m not sure if that was better or worse for the girls than riding in Ubers driven by septuagenarians who maybe don’t drive like they should.