Freeway Stalker

The MacArthur maze is what saved me. I was beginning to worry, my gas tank was low and I couldn't flee forever.

Earlier tonight I headed into Saint Crisco for a birthday gathering and a poker game. I haven't been that social with the law folks and I'll need the references after graduation. Plus, I actually like these people, although I did bring that last bottle of not-so-great-Brunello. It was still better than the Two Buck Chuck and as a stand alone wine it isn't the worst thing I've ever had in my mouth. A good time was had by most. When the party ended I decided the card game was long over, so I just headed home.

As I merged into traffic on the bridge a Lexus pulled parallel in the next lane. I looked over to discover the driver staring intently at me. I'm not above a little freeway flirtation, but this was downright creepy. I promptly looked away from him, focusing my attention back to my driving, clearing indicating my dismissal. He remained there, keeping perfect pace. I fiddled with the radio and tried to figure out what to do next. When the cars in front of me slowed he sped off. With a sigh of relief I switched lanes but kept an eye on his position. Half a mile later he checked his speed considerably.

Afraid that Mr. Lexus might be looking for me, I pulled into the farthest lane away from him and crept into the blind spot of the pickup one lane over. With a van in front of me and pickups to the side and rear, I should have been invisible. Unfortunately, I wasn't invisible enough. He picked me out and started keeping pace again. I started going through my options. 1) call any friend who might still be awake at 1 am and go there 2) pull into the closest police station 3) see if he followed any further and try to evade. None of these are were good options but 3) would at least lead to 2) eventually.

We left the bridge and he took the first freeway junction I did. I knew he was right there because I could see the head light just at the far edge of my vision. He continued apace, and I didn't dare to more than glance, but I could see he was still staring intently. I decided not to go home right away, and not to take my normal route. While I moan about being unmarriageble, I'm not so fond of being stalked. Hello adrenaline rush.

The MacArthur maze is so named because within the space of a mile or so 5 different freeways entertwine and then head different directions. It's a popular spot for gridlock or getting hopelessly lost or misrouted. The maze is not well planned. The connectors and onramps are totally disconnected, and poorly signed. In short, if you miss your connector, you're screwed.

I knew that the next junction splitting two of the five has a forced exit lane and an optional exit lane. I didn't want to be in a forced exit lane so I signalled and pulled left into the optional lane.

The connector ramp loomed close. Mr. Lexus didn't seem to notice, perhaps because he was too busy pacing me and staring. Leaving it to the last second, I ditched off onto the connector and watched him zoom away at 90 degrees to my direction as I flew up the curving overpass. I can't think of any way of getting onto the road I was now on in in less than 8 minutes. It took me less than that to get to my exit. The street plan for the neighborhood it empties into was designed by a kindergardner with crayons. Streets aren't straight and they don't go through.

Even though I knew I was home free, I checked my review mirror the whole way home. Ive been here for 45 minutes now. No one has tried to break in. I think I can go to bed now.