The Highwaymen

I commute to and from work about 45 miles each way, most of it on the Taconic State Parkway. The ride can be fairly pleasant as the road winds through some beautiful country. My fellow motorists are relatively courteous and attentive to safety, and traffic generally moves well in spite of some long term construction. Aside from slowdowns caused by the occasional accident, the commute is marred only by the presence of armed highwaymen.

The highwaymen lay in wait in the median or behind vegetation or cruise the road like the evil gangs in the post-apocalyptic movie The Road Warrior. They force vehicles to stop, seemingly at random, and extort money from the drivers. They carry sidearms and coordinate by radio with other members of their gang. The gang occupies several buildings along the road. When we see one of our fellows taken by the highwaymen, we keep moving because the highwaymen will kill or kidnap us if we intervene. We are like the rest of the wildebeests after one is taken by a lion. The predatory highwaymen are just part of the world, and there is not a damn thing we can do about it.

On the positive side, the highwaymen maintain a monopoly on the extortion racket on the parkway. Presumably, this means I am spared the predations of other, possibly worse, robbers. Moreover, the highwaymen do not personally receive any of the booty that they extort. This goes to the gangs that claim to own the road and that exert control over various territories along the route; therefore, the thugs have little incentive to ramp up their activities. Their superhuman laziness is a boon. Also, thankfully, they tend to be of only average intelligence at best. Still, having to run the gauntlet of the highwaymen every day can be depressing.