Bad day

It's called "a bad day"

This guy had a bad day.

I was in Piz­za Hut with my wife, her moth­er, and her aunt, and a semi truck (or trac­tor-trail­er) was try­ing to nego­ti­ate the cor­ner. Now it’s a tight cor­ner there, and I know I would­n’t want to have to sling a semi around it. He missed the fire hydrant. He was doing the stop-and-go thing that usu­al­ly means the trail­er’s tires are hung up on the curb. Then he just gunned it, went for it, and was free.

With the stop­light post drag­ging along the ground.


So one of the Piz­za Hut employ­ees ran out and grabbed the actu­al stop lights (which had fall­en free) and dragged them off the road onto the restau­ran­t’s lawn. I noticed that one of the vehi­cles, a mini­van stopped at what had till recent­ly been “the lights”, con­tained a guy talk­ing on his cell phone. Fur­ther inspec­tion showed that he had a police offi­cer patch on his shoulder.

When we left the restau­rant, I dropped Kath­leen off at work, then dashed home, grabbed the cam­era, and went back. I snapped this shot at the stop sign on 19th Street, try­ing to keep the offi­cers in the police car from see­ing me. Turned out pret­ty good, I think.

Inter­est­ed in prints of my pho­tos? Let me know, and we can work some­thing out.

2 thoughts on “Bad day

  1. Yeah, though I must admit, it had a fris­son of schaden­freude to it (and how ’bout that, a trilin­gual post!). Uh, Uisce Beat­he, hoi pol­loi, and harai-tsuriko­mi-ashi, too. There. Hexalingual.

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