The cameras were part of what did it. The bridge understood the cameras. Even cars slowed to take quick pictures. It was famous and it wanted more. A few dings here and there were worth it; each scratch just made it more popular.

And despite all of that, trucks just kept coming. Trucks, buses, an unfortunate RV or two, some sort of equipment on a flatbed...

The bridge loved it. The cameras captured it all.

Eventually, it supposed it would be famous enough that all the trucks would know about it.

But until then, it would enjoy being a spectacle.