Rules of the Road, N/A

Driving home from the East Bay this past Saturday night, we rolled up to the scene of an accident on Industrial Blvd. in Hayward near the on-ramp to Highway 92. In addition to the crumpled-up car on the side of the road, there were at least two police cruisers blocking the street, lots of flares burning red, and a man in a crane repairing a street lamp that was damaged in the accident. Except for the elevated worker in the basket, the crash site was devoid of any significant activity at the time I responded to Fehmeen’s question about what she should do with a nod of my head that said drive forward. We were immediately approached by a uniformed officer who asked us what we thought we were doing. As Fehmeen explained to him that it was all my idea, I vaguely recall Emma saying ‘hi’ three times from her seat in the middle of our van. The policeman then noticed me seat-belted to my wheelchair in the front and said, “Since you’ve got an injured man in there, I’m going to let you go through.” It wasn’t until we were on the incline portion of the San Mateo Bridge did my shit-eating grin subside. Big or small, I love getting away with something.

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