Scooter of death (or at least minor discomfort)
Remember way back when I mentioned something about having hit the NaBloPoMo wall? Today I sucked it up and went out and got the must-have blog book, written expressly for those who have maybe temporarily run out of ideas. Or hit a wall. (Also written for those who maybe never had an idea to start with, which is definitely not the category I belong to because I've always written amazingly interesting posts. Um, yeah.) Anyway, inspiration being safely contained inside a Barnes and Noble bag, I got in the car and headed back towards 114 via the road that runs around the perimeter of the mall. You know the one I mean. It's usually too narrow and always has lots of cars turning onto it from the ends of five thousand parking lanes. If you're lucky, sometimes you'll catch sight of someone barreling towards you across parking spaces at high speed. What's up with the blatant disregard for white lines? They're there for a reason!
Just as I'm about to get to the right turn that takes me to 114 I see an old guy on a souped up mobility scooter trying to turn out of the parking lot. As I'm thinking there's no way he's going to try and cut in front of me because there's no one behind me, he does exactly that. Except he's either not very certain or he's not able to control the scooter as well as he would like. He zipped out in front of me (zipped being a relative term), drove along the middle of the road, then very uncertainly zigged and zagged his way over to the right hand side of the road. I slowed way down, not wanting to go around him because he was all over the place, but also terrified that no matter what precautions I took, I was somehow going to hit him. My mind flashed to possible news coverage. Being an elderly man on a mobility scooter definitely trumps being the mom of a stunningly adorable kid, so there was no way I was going to have public sympathy on my side. I had a minor moment of terror when I thought he was going to take a right onto 114, but he suddenly straightened himself out and carried on his way.
I wonder where he went after that. Boston via I-95?