Psycho Killer Trucker

(Contains some nasty trucker-talk)
Ok, so it was the morning of JB99 and I was on my way to Corning. Liz couldn't come to the party because of basketball, so I was on my way to spend some of the day with her. It was nice and sunny out, and I had just crossed the NY-PA border, heading into NY. At this point, Route 15 has been two lanes for quite a while, and remains so for several miles into NY. Never fails, I come across someone going about five under the speed limit at all times, and so a line of cars starts to build. I'm very near the front of this line, and as we reach the place where it splits into four lanes, every starts passing this guy and other people, as one would expect.

And this is the source of the conflict. I was passing someone who was going just a few miles per hour slower than I was. This 18-wheeler comes roaring up behind me, I mean, he really flies till he's just a few feet from my back bumper, and he just sits there. I am A) Not one to be intimidated by an idiot and B) Someone who knows that only an idiot would tailgate like that. This guy was really closer than I'd want someone following me down a city street at 20MPH, much less a busy highway at 60MPH. So, I tap my brakes. My van doesn't even slow down, but the brake lights light up. This guy, he knows he's too close and he really thinks I'm slowing down, he over-reacts. He hits his brakes too hard, and slightly loses control of his rig. I right here, he slid a little towards the median, but got things back under control. I'm thinking "Jeeze, what an idiot." But, he did back off, just then, so I was feeling pretty good.

I continue on my way, a few seconds later, I pass this car and get back into the right-hand lane. Cruising along, I remember that I had Violent Femmes in the CD player. I'm still feeling pretty good. The very same truck zooms in front of me. Again I'm thinking, "Freaking idiot truck driver." All the sudden, I see a big cloud of burnt rubber come from his tires. Then I smell it. This is a big enough cloud of smoke to impair vision, so I back off. Right then, it looks like this guy moves into the passing lane for no reason. And back into the regular lane. And back to the passing lane. I realize, "Ah shit, he's fishtailing." At 70MPH. He must have been very, very close to flipping that truck. I slow down, and once more, he speeds off ahead, once he gets his truck under control.

Little bit of a heart attack, but I'm ok. Then this other truck passes me. But doesn't. They just occupy the passing lane, to the left of me. A quick glance ahead shows that the first truck has stopped in my lane, and there's no time to squeeze between them. I'm being forced, highway robbery-style, to stop. So I stop.

First truck's door opens. Pretty large, older dude get out. It's right now that I shoulda been getting his license plate number. Instead, I was locking all the doors, etc. That seemed more important. The guy is overweight, prolly mid-50s, graying, scraggly hair and long beard. I'm just sitting in the van. I turn off the music. He walks right up to my window. Starts pounding on it. He says, "What was that fucking shit? If you ever try that fucking shit again I'll run right through your fucking little car. You're fucking stupid. Next time, I'll kill you. I'll kill you. I'll fucking run right through your fucking car." That lasted three or four minutes. Now, if you've ever been on Rt. 15 at that point, where a long line of cars has been bottled up behind a slow car, you can imagine the number of vehicles that want to pass any given point. So, throughout this, an even longer line forms because these two truckers stopped up highway traffic. The only thing I ever even managed to say to this guy (he wasn't too interested in listening), was that, "Hey, you were breaking the law, I wasn't."

Eventually, he gets back in his truck and drives away. Again, no real chance to get the plate. I make it to Liz's house, relate the story to Liz and her mom. Liz's mom insists on calling the police. So she does, but without a plate number, they can't do much. However, 15 minutes later, we get a call back. It's the second trucker. Turns out, he stopped by the state police station on his own, to tell them about the incident. (His version involved me "stomping on" my brakes and nothing about the other guy almost wrecking his truck, except for when he was right behind me. Truckers always stick together.) Anyway, turns out the the first guy had gotten him on the CB and asked him to help stop me, so he could "talk" to me. So, I got to talk to the cops, but nothing really came out of it. Except a good story.