Don't just do something, sit there!

Believe it or not, I have another airport shuttle ride story.  Yes, the same shuttle ride home from the airport with Mr. Who's on First.  It was a long, strange trip, my friends.

We were taking an exit to get from one main freeway to another.  The exit is one lane that curves around to the right.  Suddenly up ahead there was a pickup truck with its front end smashed in, halfway into our lane and facing the wrong way.  I noticed it first, so I  pointed it out to the driver from the backseat to make sure he could avoid hitting it.  It was a dark color and that exit speed is very fast.  He swerved around and kept driving.  Which was absolutely the right thing for him to do.  I would never in a million years have trusted him to stop safely on that curved road with one lane and high speed traffic.  It would have been dangerous for anyone to try that.

Three other passengers in the van said, "Hmmm. Weird." They all craned their necks to stare at the smashed truck as we passed it.  Then they settled back in their seats and did nothing.  I was the only one frantically searching in my bag for my cell phone so I could call 911.

What is that about?!  Did it not occur to them that the smashed truck might have a person in it?  Or that it was almost inevitable that some other car would fly around that curve too fast and hit it since the truck was jutting out halfway into the only lane?   Did they really think they didn't have to do anything?

Is there something about being a passenger, being driven and not in control of the vehicle that makes people more passive?  Or maybe they were all just tired after a long day of traveling.  We were actually all on the same plane that arrived late because of an aborted landing.

I don't know.  I almost didn't write about this because I feel like I am being very judgmental.  I just found it unsettling that not one of the four seemingly capable adults in that van seemed to think anything should be done.  After we passed the smashed truck, they were all quiet and acted as if nothing had happened.  I was in the last row of seats in the back, so only the man sitting next to me could see what I was doing.  When I finally found my phone (it took me a minute) and dialed 911, he casually asked, "Are you calling 911?"

I nodded yes.  I thought of shouting loudly, "I AM A WOMAN OF ACTION!"  But I didn't have my cape or bracelets with me, so I just would have sounded crazy.  (Airport security is suspicious of such things, so I try not to carry them when traveling.  Have you ever tried to get a magic Lasso of Truth past an X-ray machine...not easy, my friends.) 

There is no real resolution to this story.  I called 911 and told them about the smashed truck and where it was located.  We drove on and all made it home safely (eventually.)  The next day I looked in the news to see if there were any stories about an accident, but did not find any.  It was just one of the things that made the shuttle ride one of the strangest I have ever taken.