Highway Man

Driving across country you are bound to run into some crazies. Usually you expect a few car loads of kids waving frantically at everyone and anyone in hopes of entertaining themselves, a few lane cutters, a few fingers for miscellaneous reasons and whatnot. You don’t expect someone to adopt you and not leave your side.

We were happily driving along, a few provinces away from home when a vehicle passed us and the driver waved at us out his open window. Immediately we checked his license plate as that is often the cause for driver waves this far from home. But nope, no familiar red plate like ours. It was a friendly wave, so no need to pull over and check our car or rooftop carrier. So we smiled and continued on our way until we were stopped about twenty minutes later at construction. The driver of the car jumped out (he was in front of us) and came bounding to our window. Turns out he was from Alberta. Hubby asked, “Well why did you move here?” Crazy man (although his craziness was not yet verified) replied heartily, “I know!!”

The construction light turned green (great little invention these portable lights) and people immediately began honking at crazy man to get back into his car. And we were off through the construction. Well, not really. We got the red light, he got the green. So we waited despite him trying to wave us along after him. So when we get to the other end of the construction, who should be pulled over and directing us to pull over as well? Yep, crazy man.

Curious by this character, we pull over. He was charming and boisterous. Within moments he comes running up to our car and indicates for us to unroll our window. I’m thinking ‘no thanks’ and leave mine up. The next ten minutes is an unending round of ‘guess who the famous person’ is as he leafs through a full 3 1/2 inch binder full of blown up photos of him with famous rock stars. In all, I think hubby passed his MTV Stars of the 90s Pop Quiz. I’m really glad I wasn’t in the driver’s seat as I’m pretty sure I would have flunked seeing as I’ve only watched about an hours worth of MTV in the past decade and a half. (Sad?) Having previously agreed to meet relatives for coffee in the nearby city, we finally were able to push off about 15 minutes later.

Sort of.

He insisted that we should follow him as a person can go 20km over the limit here and not get caught–so he proclaims. “Follow me, follow me! 110! Follow me!” When we saw him digging in the car and not getting into the driver’s seat, I told hubby to floor it or we’d be stuck there for another 15 minutes being drilled on song titles as we’d be forced to listen to his CD collection made by Snoop himself and which he luckily couldn’t find in his haste to pull us over and entertain us. Crazy man pretty much freaked out when we drove off without him and scrambled into his car, eager to try and get in front of us so we could follow him to the city. I tell ya, a city has never come fast enough for me.

I have to admit, crazy man was an entertaining bean. He insisted that he be our personal entertainment. Honestly, I think the guy was a bit lonely with his kids all back home with the ex wife. I mean, after his friends have already seen his famous people pictures once, then what? It was really cool seeing that passion in someone. Or you know, craziness. But where do you go from there?

So with crazy man slowing down to make us think that he was releasing us, he speeds up to stay alongside in the slow lane, taking his hands off the steering wheel to make emphatic ’110′ symbols with his hands. I have to admit, he’s a pretty good driver when he has no hands on the wheel and his attention anywhere but on the road. I wasn’t so scared about that part, it was when he was showing us another famous picture (Jesus) and then closing his eyes, taking his hands off the wheel and crossing himself and placing his hands in prayer position all while not letting us fall in behind or in front of him that freaked me out. Plus it was a bit stressful when he’d slow right down, forcing us to pass him and then not letting us back into the slow lane, causing the angered traffic behind us to jam up.

After all his tactics resulted in disbelieving smiles from his audience, he decided that we were his friends. Solid. Soon after he began fanning himself with money. Quite a lot of it in fact. Then he started shouting through our closed window, “McDonald’s! McDonald’s! I’ll take you to McDonald’s!” I think that was after his offer to share his big gulp and cigarettes by trying to pass them from his car to ours. I’m pretty sure that was before I suggested my mom take a photo of his license plate which was followed by a photo of him. (Yes, he took his hands off the wheel to primp and pose. Dear lord, it is a miracle we are all still alive.) Maybe that sort of influenced his impression of us.

So anyway, when we finally hit the city, we managed to ditch him. And yes after telling him we were parting ways and trying to fall behind we snuck between to two trucks before scuttling in behind a hotel. We have no pride, but we are alive. Seriously, the guy was offering to tour us through the city and if given the chance would likely have escorted us at 20km over the speed limit all the way home.

And then we got lost and were at least an hour late for our coffee with the relatives. They were pretty forgiving. I guess it helps when you have a good story. Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction.