Not quite Peyton Place, but curious nevertheless

This little patch of terra firma I call home is an interesting place. The topic for today is the roads and drivers. This is the only place I've ever lived that seems to have an aversion to stop signs. At any intersection, unless at least one of the two roads has a yellow stripe down its middle, the intersection is completely suggestion-free regarding right of way.

Think for a moment about how you would drive under these circumstances. Go ahead. I'll wait. … [insert Jeopardy Show music here] …

I lived here for two weeks before I realized that stop signs were just not there. Since I didn't see a stop sign on my right, I assumed the other street had one. It wasn't until I started changing my routes a little that I realized there were no signs. Not for anybody. Not from any direction. Upon realizing this, I broke out in a cold sweat. I am sure those fourteen days cost me plenty of carma … er, karma points.

When I mentioned the lack of signage to my car insurance agent, she responded, "Oh yeah. And the worst intersection in town is right down the block here. We get claims on accidents there all the time." Is this for real?

So how do the local townsfolk drive? Some: cautiously. Others: obliviously. It's not yet clear to me which group is in the majority. I am still unscathed but I have seen a number of cars that have been broadsided. I have dredged up those lessons I learned in driver education:

Rule #1: No one else knows how to drive as well as you do. Assume no prior knowledge or skill on the part of other drivers.
Rule #2: All other drivers are looking out for you, even though…
Rule #3: The default setting for your cloaking device is ON and no one else can see your vehicle.

I just wish people were more observant. I have been a nervous passenger in a car where the driver just zipped right along through intersections without looking or slowing and yet complained about the lack of stop signs. I have slowly approached intersections while other drivers blow right through without turning to look to see if another car was approaching (yes, that was me you didn't see). I have also participated in a scene similar to Looney Tunes cartoons with the British accented chipmunks: After you. No, after you. No, I insist. Well, if you insist. I do. Thannnnk you. On the whole, I would rather go through this saga than have to pull an SUV's grill out of my rear quarter panel which is resting peacefully behind a rhododendron in someone's yard.

This is a city of over 18,000 people. Granted, there may a few other souls who are recent transplants and are still learning the ropes but that leaves … uh … minus four … borrow from the hundreds place … uh … thousands of other drivers who should know better.

Hey you! In the minivan! Like the Baby On Board signs that came before, that ribbon-shaped magnet on your bumper is not a force field.