It was Monday morning, so I was already in a foul mood when I came upon the orange signs on my way to the post office today. “Utility Work,” the first sign said. “Flagger Ahead,” the second sign said. I saw the flagger and slowed down appropriately. He had his back to me, and there was no traffic coming from the other direction, so I assumed he would let me roll by the utility truck in the opposite lane.
Just before I got to the flagger, he did a swift pivot and held out his Stop sign in my face. I was already slowing down, so I didn’t have to slam on the brakes to make the stop. But I was a little annoyed (this being Monday morning, for one thing) and I muttered something under my breath. I doubt that he could read my lips, but he might have deciphered one of the words. He shouted something unintelligible as I drove by. I didn’t give him the satisfaction of a glance.
Now, I have nothing against utility workers, or anyone who has to stand by the side of the road with a reversible stop sign in his hand, but I made up my mind to take a different route home from the post office. I didn’t especially want to drive by this particular flagger again.