It was about 3.00AM and there was no one in sight for miles.  At this time of night, many of the area stoplights aren’t operating normally.  They flash red in one direction and yellow in another.  Yellow flashing lights mean you have the right of way, red flashing lights mean to treat the intersection like a stop sign.  You stop… look around… and go on your way.

That’s what I did.  I approached the first red flashing light.  I stopped.  I fiddled with the radio for a second.  Noticed the Chuckles wagon behind me.  I made my left turn. 

I went about a quarter of a mile before I came to another flashing red light.  I was going straight here.  The far right lane was for going straight or turning right.  The left two lanes were for turning left.  It was in these left two lanes that Chuckles came screaming to a halt.  He slammed on his brakes and put his car at an angle in front of mine, essentially blocking my access to the intersection.  He had his windows down and was yelling and screaming at me.  He was flashing his lights and laying on the horn as well.  It was really hard to understand what this guy was yelling about.  As best I could tell, he was very angry at me for making an illegal left turn.  Very very angry.  As he continued cussing and blowing the horn, I felt his anger was rising… probably because I was laughing at him.  I decided I needed to get out of there.  Just as I put my car in reverse, I saw blue lights in my rear-view mirror.  A state trooper flew on the scene at speed and parked directly behind me.

I was now trapped between a crazy man, a trooper and a telephone poll.

The trooper got out of his car and headed toward my driver’s window.  Chuckles was still blowing the horn.  Upon seeing the cop, however, Chuckles leapt from his vehicle and advanced toward the officer quickly… still yelling and frothing.  The trooper pulled his gun.  I slunk down in my seat with my hands up over my head.  The trooper very calmly, but forcefully told the man to get back in his vehicle and calm down.  Chuckles got back in the van, but continued yelling.  The trooper called for back up.

A county officer showed up shortly.  I actually think he was driving by and saw the scene.  When he arrived, the trooper went over to talk to Chuckles.  The county cop came to talk to me.  I gave him my license and stuff and told him the same story I’ve written here.  I could also hear Chuckles relating my lawlessness to the trooper in the van too.  He was convinced that I’d run a red light and that he was making a citizen’s arrest.  “Punks like me needed dealin’ with”.  The officers also questioned his awareness of the lights and their flashing status.

After a few minutes, the trooper came over to my window and told me that I could go.  He said that I was clearly the victim of a delusional man.  He took my contact information and said to have a safe evening.  He moved his vehicle and I backed out.  As I was leaving I saw another county police car arrive and in the rear-view mirror I saw Chuckles going through the paces of a field sobriety test.

What was supposed to be a five minute stop had turned into an hour long ordeal.

And the worst part… I had grabbed the wrong flavor of Gatorade.