The more flashing lights ahead and the greater the number of ambulances, firetrucks and EMTs on the scene, the more intense the anticipation of seeing a genuine tragedy up-close seems to become.
What are drivers like that expecting to see ... and why do they want so badly to see it?
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Accidents, calamities and disasters seem to command an urgent appeal for attention, as if because we're human we're entitled to intentionally snoop into and vicariously participate in events that tear human lives ... and families ... apart.
The redder the gore and the more lurid the details, the more titillating the tableaux will sound tomorrow as it's repeated round the gossip circles ... as if others endured real-life anguish and heartache merely for entertainment value, something to be discussed when nothing's on TV; a topic that can't be dismissed until we're tired of talking about it.
Rubbernecks and spectators want to be entertained. For them it's sufficient to gape as they drive past, to step on the gas once the scene's behind them ... and to disaffectedly go on their way.
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Seeing the shock on survivors' faces and imagining the disrupted lives peering back just out of reach from the median must somehow feel reassuring for the folks who're only interested in entertaining themselves ... because gapers are confident of arriving home without incident: Something like that will never happen to me.
But who can know that ... and who in the world would tell you such a thing?
