There I was, driving westbound on a two-lane, back road, approaching a garbage truck that was stopped; facing me in the eastbound lane. As I approached, the garbage truck started to roll, not forward toward me as any sane person might progress on a two-lane, back road, BUT BACKWARD, AWAY FROM ME. So now both lanes of traffic on this narrow, two-lane, back road, are heading westbound: one in the usual headlights-first, forward manner; the other in the highly unorthodox, taillights-first, please-crash-into-me-so-I-can-crush-you-in-my-compactor, backward manner.
Onward we dominated the road for a solid quarter-mile. All the while, I stayed 50 feet in front of (or should I say behind? "I'm just a caveman, your honor. Your world frightens and confuses me.") the garbage truck, staring at the driver and mouthing phrases fit for "The Old Man" in A Christmas Story.
Finally, and thankfully without incident (beyond the ludicrous situation itself), the garbage truck stopped and embarked on a more conventional, forward quest down a new road by taking a standard, right hand turn. I continued to stare bemusedly at the driver as I passed him. He returned my look and gave me a "What's the problem?" expression. I shook my head and continued on to work.
"What's the problem?"
THAT's the problem.
But weren't you laughing just a little bit? This (and may of the situations you describe) would make brilliant television. In a year there'll probably be enough material. Nice work here, Johnny!
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