For the Love of Traffic- Part 2

I love good stories. Good, random stories are even better. As I settle into my life in Philadelphia, I find myself making mental notes to self about the amusing things I can write about, and perhaps bring a bit of entertainment to all of you readers out there. For some odd reason, there is something in our humanity that is bemused by others misfortunes. Now, I don't mean misfortune in the sense of injury or serious calamity of any sorts. Misfortune in the sense of hapless circumstances. Considering my usual luck, that really works in all of your favors. I have just such a story for you.

Not too long ago, I relayed my distaste for traffic. An experience several weeks ago left me stuck on the Surekill much longer than I expected. Little did I know that was a mere taste, a spoonful of the reality of bad Philly traffic.

Tuesday morning found me at a stand still. On the ramp. I wasn't even able to make it onto the highway itself before I was stuck in the nastiest traffic I have ever seen. It took me approximately one half hour to get from my house to the actual highway. This drive typically takes around 5 minutes. I inched, literally inched, along up the ramp onto the freeway. I believe inching is a slight exaggeration. It may have been more like 3/8-ing, rather than full inching. Once you are on those ramps, you're committed. Forget backing up and going another route. I realized I was screwed with 2.5 seconds of making the turn onto the ramp. It was unreal.

After finally making the enormous trek up the ramp, I then sat at a complete standstill for about another 30 minutes. When I say standstill, I mean standstill. As in, the car was in park. On the highway. I have never had my car in park on the highway. Ever. It was really quite the sensational experience, and not one I'd like to repeat anytime soon.

After 90 minutes, I was finally able to go the full mile that it took to get to the next exit, so that I could take my leave from the disaster otherwise known as 76. "A backway will be much faster!" I told myself. Off I go into the unknown of suburbia, where I have zero idea where I'm going. Thank God for GPS. Seriously. They are a complete lifesaver in this situation. If any of you are psychotic enough to move to a heavily trafficked area, I strongly recommend one.

The backway didn't really prove to be much better. All of the other smarties must have made their way off the highway and decided to go the exact way that I did. An otherwise 25 minutes commute took over 45 minutes. Do the math. What should have been a 20 minute drive to work took 2 hours and 15 minutes. Yeeeeaaaaah...

I know that my patience is not the best when it comes to small kittens that like to chew on everything, but thank goodness I have relative patience in traffic. Otherwise, I may have arrived at work completely bald and bleeding. I did manage to pull up rocking out to 70s disco. One must amuse oneself when trapped in such a small space for that long.

However, I suppose it is also a reminder of our mortality. The traffic was caused by what must have been a not-so-nice car accident. I am unaware if anyone was hurt, but I'm sure some cars sustained damage to account for the backup. I am thankful that I made it to work safely that day, with everything still in tact and my car without anymore dents than it already has.