This Is My (Traffic) Jam

Happy Story

 Hello! Did you know that I am a nicer person when I do not begin the day with careless commuters creating near-death situations on the highway? Well, I am!

This is probably not terribly surprising to anyone, just part of trying to be more honest about what I hate in NC.

Sometimes when someone pushes to be first on the subway, I say “That’s right, you’re the only one with somewhere to be. The rest of us are just riding the 6 train for fun!” I don’t say that kind of thing in North Carolina because it makes Harold sad. And also I would be saying it ALL THE TIME.

Today I was driving to Harold’s office, and happened to check the rearview mirror. The driver behind me had both her hands up in the air, and she was singing. And snapping her fingers, and tossing her head. Her earrings were flashing and her hair was bouncing on her shoulders, and she was singing and dancing like you do when you hear the best song ever and no one is around. It was awesome.

I kept sneaking glances back, and grinning, until I had to turn off to pick up Harold.

Sad Epilogue

I wrote the previous story outside Harold’s office, because I had gotten there early (Yes, really. Me. Early. I know, right?), and he was actually getting out a bit later. He works by the American Tobacco Campus, and there’s not really a good place to hover, so I drove around to the Durham Performing Arts Center  side, and parallel parked on a small street between two other cars in a two-hour space.

While I was sitting in the car, blogging in my notebook, staff from DPAC set up orange traffic cones to block off the beginning and end of the one-block street where I (and about a dozen other cars) was parked.

I seriously do not understand anything about the roads and this place.