By Melissa Boyd (Whetstone Staff Writer)
Have you ever noticed how quick the Dover traffic lights are?
How, turning left on to Division Street off of South State Street, the green arrow lasts about five seconds?
No, really, it does. I’ve counted.
How many cars can go through that light without running a light? I’d say about one and a half.
But that’s not all.
What about trying to turn left on Governor’s Avenue?
It doesn’t really matter what street you’re turning off from – Cecil or Fulton streets. It’s almost impossible, trying to creep up past the stop sign a little bit so you can see past the cars.
The speed limit is 25, but almost everyone seems to drive at least 35. You go the speed limit, and someone’s tailgating you like they’re about to hop in your trunk. It doesn’t even stop then, though, because if you finally do pick up speed, they still tailgate you.
Then you’re on South State Street, and it’s your right of way and you’re doing everything right – speed limit, you’ve got your headlights on, and both hands on the wheel.
Out of nowhere, someone cuts you off, turning in front of you off of a side street; then, they yell out of the window at you, as if you did something wrong.
And nobody ever moves out of the way for the ambulances, which go by every second of every day. The cars just line up in the middle of the street, not pulled over or anything, like the ambulance is supposed to be able to move with a line of cars there.
Yeah, right.
So you’re stuck hearing the sirens for at least a good five minutes, until traffic lightens up and some smart people decide to follow your lead in pulling over.
I hate driving in Dover.
