My four sisters and I, being raised by a loving but overly protective mother, had no inclination toward sports whatsoever excluding the times we attended the football games at our high school. The closest activities resembling sports that I have experienced in my entire life are roller skating, ice skating and riding a bike and I wouldn't call myself a pro at any of those. I faced it a long time ago. There is nothing I will do that might cause me to get hurt.
Anyway, my younger sister Linda and I had the notion that we should play tennis. Since neither one of us knew a thing about tennis except that it was necessary to have a racket and a ball, we decided to get serious and enroll for some lessons. We purchased our gear, hoped that the instructor provided the net, and signed up for lessons that were being given across town. Both of us were very excited and anxious to begin.
We found out in a short period of time, that time being three lessons, that neither one of us could hit the ball very well, that we really didn't enjoy the game that much because we were both so inept, and that it was too inconvenient to drive across town in the traffic and the Las Vegas heat twice a week for lessons. In short, we decided almost simultaneously that neither one of us was cut out for tennis.
On the way home from what was to be our third and last lesson, my sister and I were discussing this topic and laughing about how foolish we were to have invested in new tennis rackets and balls. Thank goodness, we hadn't bought a net!
As we approached the light in what was a major intersection on Las Vegas Boulevard, we, along with so many other travelers on the road that day, were stopped in traffic by a red light. The line of cars in front and to both sides of us seemed to go on forever, and we noticed that people were beginning to blow their horns although we had no idea why. Then some of the smaller vehicles began to inch toward the side lanes and even the curb in an effort to move out of the main line. It finally dawned on us that something was very much amiss.
Linda and I continued to crawl along with the traffic for at least 20 minutes or more . We craned our necks in an effort to see what was going on at the front of the line. We witnessed the light changing from red to green and green back to red several times. We waited as the cars in front went along at a snail's pace and drivers continued to blow their horns in impatience.
When we got close enough to see, we observed a man dressed shabbily in the middle of the busy intersection directing traffic, for no apparent reason, while the light continued to change back and forth. Linda and I could do nothing but watch in amazement while this disheveled looking, middle aged man halted traffic and waved traffic on entirely at his discretion. Sometimes it would be only one car that he would let through.
It was just about coming to our turn to be at the front of the line and at another red light, when Linda and I both witnessed, without any warning, the traffic conducting gentleman turn around, walk abruptlyl but knowingly to this rickety old car that was parked over to the side, get in, and drive off. Linda and I looked at each other speechlessly. From that point on, traffic continued as it should have and the congestion and the ill tempers eased.
