Everything was normal. Cars were stop and go, aggressive drivers darted between lanes, black exhaust plumes from diesel trucks choked the air. As usual, afternoon rush hour was getting on my nerves. In a left turn only lane at a busy intersection, I stopped behind a huge camper where my field of vision was limited to bumper stickers collected on roadtrips. Music from KBPI drummed out of my speakers when, suddenly, the driver behind me fled from his car and stood in front of a Toyota truck rolling in the oncoming lanes.
The graying man slammed his hands hard on the hood, belly bouncing off the grill, yelling for the driver to stop as the Toyota continued to creep forward. He worked his way around to the driver's side where he continued his barrage of striking the hood and windshield while yelling at the driver.
WTF?! I opened my door and looked around the camper to see a crumpled pedestrian laying lifeless in the street near the intersection. I ran to the Toyota where the driver was still behind the wheel, big-eyed while watching the lunatic beat his truck. The lunatic excitedly told me how the driver ran over the pedestrian, so I opened the truck's door. But for the lunatic, it appeared the driver was pondering an escape so I demanded the keys. He resisted, so I took them. I grabbed his left arm and told him to step from the truck. He resisted, so I made him. I told him to walk to the sidewalk. He resisted, so I escorted him. I told him to sit down, he resisted and tried to pull away from me. So, I performed a flawless rear wrist take down that would have made Bruce Lee smile. He dropped and I spun his body in the winter roadside grime to establish complete control of his left arm that was between my legs as my crouching knees were pinned hard into his ribs and neck.
Did this really just happen? While hovering over him, I glanced around. Cars rushed around the Toyota, drivers stuck behind the lunatic's car stared, horns honked and no one else approached. Pathetic. I told the lunatic to call police and soon sirens echoed in the distance.
"I'll let you up, but you will sit on the curb until police arrive," I told the driver. He agreed, sat up and began to brush himself off. A fire engine blocked our view of the crumpled pedestrian and the driver began to stand.
"I'll drop you again," was said to the driver who sat back down and police finally contacted us.
While the driver spoke to the officer, I noticed the pedestrian's glasses near the windshield wipers on the Toyota. I then smiled when I noticed dents on the hood and a crack in the windshield where the lunatic kicked its ass.
"I saw the pedestrian get hit, roll up on top of the hood and then roll off the front where he then went under the truck," commented the chatty lunatic.
This tragedy happened about a month ago and was another example of how apathy runs rampant in our selfish society. Assuming the pedestrian survived, there's at least one person who is very grateful for a lunatic that got involved!
It was a pleasure to have helped him out.