Hypothetically, now, let’s say there’s this driver motoring down the freeway on a Saturday night. And let’s say this driver needs to pick someone up in approximately 40 minutes.

Hypothetically, now, let’s say there’s this driver motoring down the freeway on a Saturday night.


And let’s say this driver needs to pick someone up in approximately 40 minutes.


And suppose this driver, who happens to be male in this scenario, has given himself a cushion of, oh, let’s say 10 minutes to make this trip.


In other words, he’s allotted himself 50 minutes to make this hypothetical 40-minute trip.


This precaution, by the way, has him feeling inordinately prudent, like an Arctic explorer caching whale blubber along his route.


So, anyway, this hypothetical male driver making this hypothetical journey along the freeway on a hypothetical Saturday night suddenly runs into trouble.


Or, more accurately, he encounters trouble when his car stops running.


He notes with a sinking hypothetical heartbeat that the car no longer acknowledges his foot on the gas pedal. The red needle in the roundish RPM barometer has, in hypothetical fact, plummeted counterclockwise back down to zero.


This indicates that not only is the engine not producing thousands of revolutions per minute, it’s no longer producing thousands of revolutions per hour, day, week, or century.


Consequently, the car begins to slow to a stop, as hypothetical cars will do when their hypothetical motors cease to function.


The driver pulls over into the freeway’s breakdown lane in a hypothetical maneuver designed to keep other hypothetical motorists from crashing into him and hypothetically killing him.


He also activates his warning lights in another hypothetical move to improve the hypothetical situation’s safety level.


Now, here’s where this totally hypothetical scenario I’ve conjured up might stretch your credulity to the point where it snaps and hits someone in the eye, possibly causing serious injury.


This hypothetical driver – in an age when preschoolers regularly discuss the latest episode of “Dora the Explorer” on their BlackBerries – has no cell phone.


I know, I know, such a whacky scenario would see this hypothetical driver have to make his way stumbling along the icy, slushy, hole-ridden, sloping land along the shoulder of the freeway in double time to make it to that species of creature disappearing faster than Giant Pandas in the wild – the public phone – to seek aid and inform the person awaiting him to find an alternative form of transportation.


Theoretically, this make-believe driver could even initially blunder along in the wrong direction and find himself at the Interstate exit rather than an exit to a populated area.


That could all happen, hypothetically.


Ah, but never mind.


It’s all too far-fetched, even as a hypothetical.


Forget I mentioned it.


Frank Mulligan is an editor in GateHouse Media New England’s Raynham office, and can be reached at fmulliga@cnc.com.


The opinions expressed in this column are those of the writer and not necessarily those of the newspaper.