Baron von Smoke Rides Again

Last week I did something foolish. Actually, I imagine it's rare that a week goes by when I don't do something foolish, but this was something specifically foolish, and potentially dangerous, and certainly illegal that I wouldn't normally do which I'm going to talk about today. What did I do? I passed a car on a residential street in a non-passing zone.

No, I'm not a crazy reckless driver, and this hardly qualifies me as such — my general disregard for speed limits would probably do that already. No, I passed someone on a residential street by accident. Well, sort of. Maybe I should start at the beginning?

I normally carpool to work. On Thursday it was my turn to drive, so after picking up my coworker I turned from her street onto a somewhat larger street, although not a busy thoroughfare by any stretch of the imagination. For people in Charlottetown, it was Oak Drive. There was a blue Pontiac Firefly coming up the street in no big hurry, and I considered pulling in front of it, but I let it go past and then pulled in behind it. In retrospect, I could easily have gone in front of him, because he was doing maybe 30 kph up the street.

I followed him for half a minute. In that time, I observed the following: 1) he was a lot closer to the shoulder than the center line, 2) he still wasn't going very fast, 3) he was signalling to turn right. 4) His driver's side door was red, unlike the rest of his car. Based on the first three observations, I assumed he was about to turn into a driveway. And so, as there was no oncoming traffic nearby, I pulled out and went around him. Perhaps not an entirely legal manouvre, but hardly an uncommon one. Only as I was halfway through overtaking him and I saw the look of surprise mixed with helplessness on his face did I realize that he wasn't about to turn. Not into a driveway, nor down the next side street, nor even the side street after that. No, I just passed him where I had no business passing anyone, like a reckless high school kid on a Kawasaki Ninja might have done.

In fact, I kept watching in the rearview mirror, when he reached the stop sign at a more important thoroughfare (Brackley Point Road, if you must know) he didn't turn there either, but went straight on through. For all I knew, his steering wheel was locked in the straight ahead position and he continued on the same trajectory until his car reached the end of the road, crossed the highway, and came to rest in a field — not that I really expected that to happen, of course.

I learned later that same day that this did not, indeed happen. How did I learn this, you ask? Well, I learned it on my way home from work. On the outskirts of town I saw a car approproaching from the opposite direction get passed illegally. I noticed that the car was moving somewhat slowly, and staying very close to the shoulder. As the distance grew less, I saw that it was a blue Pontiac Firefly with one red door. As I met him, there could be no mistake. It was the same car I had passed in the morning.

And as I looked at the driver, now wearing a look of helplessness no longer mingled with surprise, I recognized him. It was my former neighbour, known to me only as Baron von Smoke. For those who aren't long time readers of this site, he lived in a townhouse beside mine, was inclined to smoke on the front step, came and went at odd hours for an old guy, and was antisocial to the point of making Ebenezer Scrooge look like a party animal by comparison. It's been almost four years since I've seen him, and I might not have recognized him at all if not for the car. Of course, back when I lived beside him all the doors were still blue. I wonder if he recognized me or not. And I wonder if he and his wife still go through four cases of Diet Pepsi a week. Come to think of it, maybe he had a full load of Diet Pepsi in the car, and that's why he was driving so slow.