Today, more than ever…
…I am convinced that the members of the human race are all nothing more than a truckload of clucking chickens wandering around the big cosmic coop.
Ok, so, backstory:
Over the Labor Day weekend, the people constructing a new eastern span of the San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge closed the bridge to traffic. During this closure, they removed one section of the lower deck of the bridge, and placed a temporary section in place to divert traffic and allow vital work to be completed.
This made big news all over the Bay Area. It was much ado about “The S Curve”
Ba-kah! An S curve!
So when the bridge re-opened to traffic the following week, all the traffic reporters reminded commuters that people would be getting used to the new S curve, so allow extra time.
Ok, fine. Right? It’s a new thing, we all get used to it and move on.
Oh but nooooooo.
No, today, I had a rare occasion to have to cross the Bay Bridge. (stop shuddering, my dear mother!)
So, first of all, the approach going in an eastern direction on a good day is a cluster of merges that has always made me nutty.
Fine, it is what it is.
Then there had been an accident an hour earlier that had still left traffic snarled. Fine.
But oh…the best part. Once traffic was flowing along, I came through the tunnel that goes through Treasure Island, and then I was confronted with…DA DA DUUUUM…
The S Curve.
And people hit the brakes! Oh did they hit the brakes.
Fer crimeny’s sakes, people! It isn’t a frappin’ Z curve! It is quite easy to navigate. You follow those fabulous little white lines they paint on the ground. You turn your steering wheel gently one way, and then gently the other way. This is not a step on the brake-able road hazard!
My god. The freak out. The pandemonium! The utter ba-kah!
The Bay Bridge carries some 270,000 cars every day. And this change was implemented TWO WEEKS AGO!
This, along with people on the southbound highway slowing down to look at an accident that occurred on the northbound side, you know, OVER that heavy concrete barrier?
Fine. I’ll just peck at my grain and shake my tailfeathers and call it a day.
I. Am. Cranky.