Well now I know my get-away plan the next time I rob a bank.

I was one of the lucky ones last night.  I got to sit in the parking lot that was I-75 southbound just north of Moores Mill at 5pm.  Oh? You didn’t hear about that?  How the police decided the best way to catch a bank robber that they “knew” was heading I-75 South was to shut down the entire interstate and search car-to-car?  It was the most miserable experience ever.  Ever. I think karma finally came and bit me back for all my, “my commute is so great now!” comments.  
 
I was stuck just north of Northside/W.Paces (that of the standard ‘Bou stop) and after hearing the radio tell me the situation, decided to call 911.  I explained I was one of the lucky ones trapped there and – by the way?  Do we perhaps have a description of the car that can be given out?  I mean, there’s only hundreds of cars going nowhere; lots of eyeballs to help the po-pos.   She went to check, asking if I can hold.  I told her no problem; I wasn’t going anywhere.    There came back no description, sorry.  Dumb po-pos.   I knew then even more what a cluster this was and slowly moseyed my way over to the right shoulder (oh yes, the shoulder.  Just try to ticket me for driving on that, eh?) from way over in the left where I usually cruise.  The Only Goal was to get the hell off that highway.   And, interesting that:  for all the officers actually going car-to-car ON the highway, no one was checking the exit ramps.   What th–?!  What kind of asspanda plan was this?
 
I had left for work yesterday expecting a blind date afterwards – woo! And on a Thursday? – where else but at the Taco Mac?  But he had to call and cancel late in the day for some work things going on.  That probably worked out for the best because after sitting in traffic for 2-1/2 bloody hours, I was not quite my wonderful sweet little self that I always am (ha!).  Probably not the best time to meet someone new though, right?   
 
It was, however, a great time to meet someone old.  As in old friend, not old old. J   The dear thing knew knew KNEW I was screaming my head off in my car periodically, almost literally, and in sweet little text messages kept me calm until I could meet her at the Maggie’s.  There we were joined by barkeep extraordinaire Mary and her friend Jen and the next thing I knew, I was getting into my car and it was 10:38pm.  Oy vey!  The scariest part was not remembering until this morning just how bloody hungry I was when I finally got to the bar and that, two drinks later, I completely forgot to eat.  So not cool.  Perhaps that explains the scarfing of the Snickers bar this morning?  Ah, thank God for Fat Fridays.