Vent

We interrupt this normally friendly, PG-13 blog to bring you a word from our sponsors for the day: Greyhound and Smith & Wesson.

CLUSTERFUCK!

A Greyhound heading to Orlando stopped on I-95 before lunch today, because one of its passengers was wearing a trench coat (in 100-degree weather), acting strangely, and trying to open the bus windows. SWAT was dispatched and I-95 was closed down from Baymeadows to Southside in both directions, as authorities ascertained whether the individual was exercising his right to bear arms.

I was heading home in that general direction to get lunch for myself and husby. It became a significant illustration of how people's IQs drop when faced with altered situations. The intersection of Old Baymeadows and Southside is an absolute beast in the best of conditions, but today the lights were on flash. Whether this was to dissuade people from heading toward I-95 or was Murphy the gremlin sitting on the traffic light junction box wringing his hands and twirling his mustache as he wondered how else to fuck with Jacksonville commuters, is unknown.

I am a proponent of scenic routes. If the way in front of me is blocked, then fuck it; I'll go around it somehow, adding minutes onto my route but at least keeping me moving. Instead I was trapped behind some assholes determined to go straight across, against the flow, when there wasn't a cop present yet to direct traffic. So we wait. And wait. I yell at them. Put Linkin Park on the stereo because this level of traffic frustration demands some head-banging rock. Finally, a lone FHPer shows up and I manage to get across without taking my planned scenic route or murdering any civilians.

So ok, I get home. Certainly not going back the same way I came. I head north to Deerwood, to cut across to 9A. Mistake #2. Should've taken JTB. Apparently at lunchtime, EVERYONE who works in Deerwood goes to St. Johns Town Centre for lunch. The traffic for the light at Gate Parkway is backed up to the Residence Inn. Breathe. Crank Linkin Park louder.

Thankfully, 9A was a breeze once I found the sucker, but so much for a relaxing drive on my lunch hour. I'm venting so that I release this and don't stew on it all afternoon. Adding insult to injury, the asshole on the Greyhound wasn't carrying! He was just a little screwier than your average Greyhound patron, if that's possible, and was taken into custody. I'd have been a lot happier if he'd been carrying a gun. Warped, I know.

Anything else I can bitch about? There's not enough chicken in my Wendy's Mandarin Chicken salad, and I definitely should've pilfered more fries from Les's lunch. I'm going back to work now. Don't bother me.