On my drive into St. Johnsbury every morning on Route 2, I pass by the St. J. School. At this intersection are cars coming from three directions, but more importantly, it's high volume straight-and-turning all ways. Employed to deal with this is the Traffic Directing Lady. She stands, appropriately, in the middle of the intersection and wears bright orange hat, mittens and vest. She's a big girl.
There's something about her that is just riveting. I think it's the decisive way in which she indicates whose turn it is. Or maybe it's the affirmative nods that say "you, yes you, yes, you're perfect, do just what you're doing! good job!". Or maybe it's those orange mittens.
Regardless, there's now this moment in my commute that has this weird little circumstance playing out: she's precise, controlledl, good at what she does, and makes everyone feel like they are in the most capable hands. But lately I've begun to worry: What if she falls ill, or dies, or gets hit? What if she quits, retires or gets snapped up by a road construction contractor? I started running through scenarios now, whenever I'm stopped in traffic there. I think about the best way to handle the situation before anything should happen. I've decided to get her a gift.
But the biggest dilemma is that I can't roll down the window and hand it to her or it would interfere with her doing her job. Can you imagine that out of sheer generosity and appreciation I hand her a gift with a thank-you note ("thank you for being the best damned traffic direction I've ever seen!") and in the processes, occupying a free hand and her attention, only to have get screw up the traffic and cause and accident or get hit.
For now, I'm playing it safe and keeping this all to myself.
The Traffic Directing Lady
