Posted by: Marie | October 20, 2013

(881) Weed diggers and rest stops

Post #881
[Private journal entry written on Wednesday, June 27, 2012]

Something interesting happened today . . .

I attended the conscious business networking meeting in City #1 this morning. On the way back to my little town, I noticed the rest stop along the interstate highway was fenced off and the building had a big hole smashed into the side of it like a car had run into it . . .

Of course, I was curious what had happened . . . and I had a few extra minutes to kill before my first lesson, so I decided to poke around and see if I could figure out what happened . . .

On a side note, the State Patrol substation is located right next to the rest stop . . . I wondered if it was wise to go poke around a government-owned building that was fenced off while I was within sight-line of the police station . . .

I decided to do it anyway . . . what were they going to do to me? Arrest me? Put me in jail? Yeah . . . no . . . I don’t think so . . . worse case, they ask me to leave . . . right??

I didn’t want to use the interstate to backtrack to the rest stop because then I would be committed to driving all the way to the previous exit and then I would have to drive all the way back . . . I decided to try to find a back-roads way in . . .

(225)

Photo by Martin Chen

But, I couldn’t find a back way in . . . I really didn’t want to take the time to go via the interstate . . . but, I had this little gut feeling telling me I should do it . . . that there was a reason I needed to do it . . . so, I decided to just go for it . . .

I got on the interstate then took the rest stop exit. As I drove past the State Patrol building, I noticed a few people getting into their personal cars . . . I assumed they were cops getting off duty . . . as I parked next to the rest stop building, they kind of looked at me, got in their cars, and then they drove off . . . apparently I wasn’t raising too major of an alarm . . .

After I parked, I realized that the rest stop building had not been in use for quite some time (I don’t keep track of the status of rest stops in my own territory). I didn’t try to gain access into the fenced area, but I did walk around the building and look at the damage and try to figure out what happened . . . there was a car bumper inside the fence, so I guessed a car had slide off the highway, crossed the frontage road and hit the building . . . the car must have been really flying to travel that far and do that much damage . . . wow!!

I had been walking around for maybe four or five minutes when a State Patrol car pulls into the area near where I was standing . . . the car door opens . . . an officer stands up out of the car . . .

Even before she stood up all the way, I quickly recognized her as the officer who had handled a citizen’s traffic complaint I had filed against an aggressive driver a couple of years earlier. She had come out to my house and interviewed me, and had interviewed the other driver at his house, and had decided to file reckless driving charges against the other driver on my behalf. I had had contact with her several times over a matter of weeks and I was very impressed with how impartially and carefully she had conducted her investigation.

After working with her on the complaint, I had come to the conclusion that she was a really neat lady . . . someone I could imagine myself hanging out with . . . and, I thought she was attractive, too . . . I guess you could say I had a little crush on her back then . . .

But, I hadn’t thought about her in the last year or two . . . and now, here she was, standing in front of me!

————–

Me: (With animation) Hey, I know you!!

Officer: Oh, really? From where?

Me: You handled a case of mine a couple of years ago.

Officer: Oh, what case was that?

(I described the case to her)

Officer: Oh yeah, now I remember . . .

Me: You were over in [City #2] at that time . . . so I guess you moved over here to this station . . . ??

Officer: Yeah, I’ve been here a couple of years . . .

Me: Now that I think about it, I think you did tell me back then that you were in the process of moving to this station, or that you were hoping to . . . I don’t remember exactly . . .

Officer: Yeah, I moved . . .

Me: Do you still live in [City #3]?

Officer: Yes, still do.

Me: Then this station would be closer for you . . . that’s good!

Officer: Yes, it is nice to be so close. Are you still living in [my town]?

Me: Yes . . . I have a busy piano studio there . . . I don’t know if you remember, but I was driving school bus back then . . .

Officer: Oh, yeah . . . are you still doing that?

Me: No, my piano studio got so busy I had to quit my school bus job.

Officer: I take it that’s a good thing?

Me: Oh, yes! I really enjoy teaching . . .

Hey . . . so, I’m curious . . . what happened to the building?

Officer: A semi-truck hit it . . . the driver fell asleep . . . he never hit the brakes . . . he woke up when he hit the building.

Me: Oh, yikes! I guess that explains the damage . . . it looks like it knocked the building off it’s foundation . . .

Officer: Yes, the building is too far gone to save, so they’re going to knock it down.

Me: I saw the car bumper there (pointing) . . . was a car involved?

Officer: No . . . I don’t know why there is a bumper in there . . . maybe someone picked it up along the highway and just threw it in there so it can be trashed with the building . . .

Me: Oh . . . well it must have been quite a wreck . . . was the driver okay?

Officer: Yeah . . . just a few scratches . . . he walked away.

Me: Wow . . . was anyone in the building hurt?

Officer: Oh, no . . . this rest stop has been shut down for a year or two . . . there is a new one at the next exit. So, no one was here.

Me: When did the wreck happen?

Officer: Just a couple of nights ago . . .

Me: Yeah, the skid marks look new.

Officer: Yeah . . .

Me: Well . . . I stopped because I was curious what happened . . . I bet you’re here to tell me that I’m trespassing . . .??

Officer: (Very matter-of-factly) Yeah . . .

Me: (Humorously) So, would you like for me to leave now?

Officer: (Grinning a little) Yeah . . . that might be good . . .

Me: Okay, I’ll go . . . it was good to see you again!

Officer: Good to see you again, too.

Me: Take care . . .

————–

She got back in her car . . . I started walking back across the grass towards my car . . .

Then, as I was opening my car door, she pulled up behind me and rolled down her window . . .

————–

Officer: By the way, I need your car tag number for my report.

Me: Oh, okay . . .

Officer: Thanks . . . good to see you again . . .

Me: You, too . . .

————–

I thought the whole exchange was rather humorous . . . and the last little bit was strange . . . I question if she really was writing a report on my trespassing . . maybe so . . . whatever . . .

Maybe she just wanted to get my tag number so she could look up my name and then look up the complaint I had filed . . . I don’t know, LOL . . .

I couldn’t remember her name, and I never got close enough today to read her name tag, so when I got back to the studio, I pulled the complaint paperwork from my bus driving file . . . I had stuck the paperwork in that file although it had nothing to do with the bus driving, but I had other police incident reports from that time that were related to the bus driving and it just seemed like the most logical place to stick it . . .

I was surprised when I saw the date of the report . . . I filed the complaint 3½ years ago . . . I was shocked it had been that long. So, I’m really surprised that I recognized her.

I got her name from the report and googled her . . . nothing noteworthy on google other than general info about her position as a state patrol . . . nothing juicy . . .

I noticed today that she was wearing a wedding ring . . . I don’t remember her wearing one when I filed the complaint . . . I’m pretty sure she wasn’t . . . not that it really matters . . .

The thought crossed my mind that I could maybe invite her out for coffee . . . it’s not like she has an open investigation now that involves me . . . there would be no conflict of interest like there would have been before . . . but, that might be too creepy . . . and what would be my intention?

I wondered if James or Cindy might know her . . . they both work in the same area . . . I wonder if it would be weird to ask them about her . . . how would I explain my wanting to connect with her . . . ??

Maybe I could “accidentally” leave the complaint paperwork sitting on my desk so that when James comes for his lesson on Saturday, he could sort of notice it and then I could coincidentally ask if he knows her . . .

Anyway . . . I just wonder about the serendipitous nature of today’s events . . . how weird that I got that strong gut feeling that I should check out the building . . . and then to run into her . . . it just seems like fate at play . . .

But I don’t know what to do with it . . . maybe just sit back and see what unfolds without my interference? I don’t know . . .

I know from experience that there is usually a very good reason why I get those gut feelings . . . for example, one time, I was in Iowa visiting my best friend . . . we were out garage sale-ing . . . I really didn’t plan on buying anything because I didn’t need anything . . . although I had space to take stuff home with me since I had driven my car to Iowa . . . but, I really didn’t need anything . . .

At one garage sale, I saw a very old weed-digger . . . the price tag said “75 cents” . . . I had a very strong feeling that I should buy it . . . although I had absolutely no need for a weed-digger since I had no yard . . . no yard and no weeds . . .

But, I bought it . . . because my gut told me to. And, I tossed it into the trunk of my car and promptly forgot about it.

Several weeks later, I was back in Colorado, at my mom’s house. She was rummaging around in her garage and pulled out her very old weed-digger and held it up in the air . . .

“I’ve had this weed-digger for years . . . maybe 40 years . . . I keep taking it to the scissor-sharpening guy and having him sharpen it . . . he has sharpened it so many times that it no longer has any fork left in it . . . he has sharpened it down to a stub. And, I keep buying new diggers, but they don’t work nearly as well because they don’t have this bend right here (pointing to the bend on the shaft) . . . the new ones hurt my wrist . . . I sure wish I could find one like this . . . such a little thing but it sure makes a world of difference after a few hours of digging . . . ”

That’s when the light bulb went off in my head . . . I ran out to my car . . . got the weed-digger from out of the trunk . . . took it to my mom . . . it had the bend in the shaft just like her old one . . . and it had plenty of fork left to be sharpened over the next 40 years . . .

She was delighted . . . but very confused about why I had a spare, very old weed-digger in my trunk . . .

I don’t know . . . how does one explain such things?

Quotes 791


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