Hooded Drive

I was driving on I-94 headed home to Eau Claire from Milwaukee Sunday morning when a man waved at me furiously from the right hand driving lane. Not sure of his intention, so I did my open hand in the air signal. He then very slowly mouthed the word hood. I looked at the hood of my car and it was moving up and down. I could not stop safely as traffic was heavy in both lanes so I slowed my vehicle and exited at the busiest exit in WI Dells; and in the direction that I thought was going to be a gas station but turned out to be the unlabeled exit back on the interstate going east. I endured a very dicey ten mile drive to the nearest exit all the while trying to find a good time to pull over with my fingers hovering over the emergency flash signal in the event the hood flew open. I made it to the exit and to a small gas station. Should I go right to see if someone could help or go left to a group of motorcycle riders taking a break? I chose the bikers. I got out of the car, said I figured someone here could help me when a tall biker guy stepped forward and walked to my car. Before I could get any kind of explanation out, he said, hey, your hood is a problem. He opened it up, slammed it shut. It took him two seconds, if that. I walked him back to his group when a tall, substantially-sized women dressed in leathers stepped forward and asked me if I was trying to steal her boyfriend. Then she laughed. I put both of my arms up in the you never know position, said nothing, smiled, and drove away.

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