The light at the intersection of the loop around town and the farm-to-market road to our house is notoriously slow. Generally it’s green only for loop drivers until something triggers it, and thirty minutes later, it goes green for the FM folks.
Not long ago, MSB was heading home from some errand and, as usual, was caught at the light. It turned green for him, but just before he crossed over, a siren blared behind him. He checked the rearview and grinned. Trapped between him and one of our local finest was a kid behind the wheel of a Ford Mustang with a couple o’ hundred horses under the hood, revved up and rearin’ to go.
Why the kid didn’t turn and hit the loop I’ll never know, but he was dumb enough to follow my husband across the intersection and down the farm road. Speed limit there is a measly 55–which everyone takes as a suggestion to ignore in favor of 60-65, but hubby dearest took it at creeper’s pace of 5 mph. One gray Ford 4×4, a pretty little Mustang, and a siren-blarin’ cop car poked along the road in a low-speed chase guaranteed to put anyone to sleep.
It’s a winding road, a shoulderless two-lane, lined with ranchettes and fenced-in Quarter horses. That yellow no-passing line is in your lane more often than not, so after following the snail in the pickup for a half-mile without being able to pass, the kid did something brilliant. He passed on the right.
Yep, you guessed it. He wound up in the ditch.
The cop zipped up beside him, blocking escape, although that was unnecessary. The kid couldn’t have gotten his Mustang out of that ditch no matter how hard those horses pulled.
MSB kicked up his speed and chuckled all the way home.