Wendy Stories
November 2001

Stalked by an Angry Driver

We were driving home from the Sierra Nevadas when a road jockey tried to dart in front of me on the Bay Bridge merge.  I laid on the horn and sailed past him into my rightful clear lane space, while he crawled with the adjacent traffic. That was the wrong ting to do.

I was halfway to Treasure Island when I spotted two flashing headlights, and a tailgater in my rear view mirror. "He's sure in a hurry!" I told Jacob. So I pulled over to let him by--but instead he just pulled even with me, fell back, pulled even, flipped me off, and fell back. He dogged my blind spot, alternated scary tailgating with zooming up from a mile away, for 30 MILES of freeway.

He had a bright and a dim headlight, so I could spot him from a long way away. In retrospect I wonder if he knew about the headlights, and liked having the power to scare me from way far away. Scare me he did! If I'd been alone in the car it would have been worse.

But I had my male chaperone. I was not a single woman victim with a male creep chaser.  Somehow that made the situation even more bizarre.  Finally I called 911 and maneuvered my car so Jacob could write down his licence number. I told the dispatcher our problem with a quaver in my voice. The stalker realized we had taken down his license, and dropped back.

The dispatcher took my call without surprise, didn't ask for any identification, and promised to send an officer to the scene.  I was startled with how quickly she assumed I was telling the truth! A few minutes later I noticed there was a gap in traffic for nearly a mile behind me. I think the cops pulled onto the freeway and everryone slowed down to a crawl.

I suspect this happens frequently, since they were so prepared to deal with it.

If I give you his license number, would you tell off this jerk?

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