Fridays. As frightening to me as Monday's, but for a different reason. Everyone hates Monday for the obvious. Weekend was too short. Work week is too long and no fun. However, as much as I hate getting up bright and early Monday and driving into work, the process doesn't scare me near as much as it does on Fridays. No matter what I might encounter in the days leading up to the weekend, nothing concerns me as much as Fridays, or more specifically, Friday afternoons.
In the job I have now, I'm required to drive in traffic daily, destinations set from downtown to just a few miles from the shop. Every day, I have a front row seat to how drivers in our fair city respond to whatever day of the week it is. Mondays seem more relaxed. No one is in much of a hurry to get anywhere and every subsequent day, is nearly the same, peppered with a few anomalies, because nobody is perfect. Fridays, though. Gives a whole new meaning to Freaky Friday.
My new job has me working at a facility in the south industrial section of our city. We make RVs which are sold all over North America. Most notably, is the Prince of Darkness, himself, Ozzy Osbourne having purchased two or three of the RVs. There is a promotional poster hung all over the plant of Jack (Osbourne) and Ozzy posing in front of their beloved RV. Come Friday afternoon, at quitting time, it's a mad dash by all to vacate the facility. A couple of weeks ago, I had made a right turn onto a street, turning into the right-hand lane before signaling to get into the left. That's when another fellow, who also works for the company that I do, decided that he was going to circumvent the normal rules of the road and rip into the left lane, Mad Max-style, nearly side-swiping me in the process. He was clearly in the wrong, but holy f*ck if that guy doesn't hold a grudge. That day, he slowed right down, trying to egg me on to a fist fight and in the weeks since that incident, he's treated me like a cockroach. (He's one of the "higher-ups" in the company, so I just shrug it off. It's his life that seems to be the most effected by the near-miss accident.)
Leaving the south industrial area is a breeze, every other day, but Friday. At the conclusion of my first week of work, it took me 45 minutes just to leave the area, due to an extraordinary build up of traffic. It was enough to nearly make me quit the job, I was so frustrated. Every Friday afternoon, since that day, traffic is notoriously bad and when freedom is finally accomplished, the craziness doesn't end.
Let me breakdown yesterday, October 1st, 2021, for you. After making a stop at Wal-Mart for milk and bread, I was lucky enough to leave Stonebridge (which is adjacent to the south industrial park), my adventure homeward was only beginning. There was a near miss as I merged onto the freeway. Likely someone with their nose buried in their phone, rather than focusing on the road. Next was entering the clover-leaf, as nobody seems to know how to yield to oncoming traffic. That's where a young lady had been rear-ended by another unattentive driver. I foiled that debacle, steering around the scattered panels and marker lamps. Around the loop and heading north, I managed to escape a driver whom I can only assume was Mario Andretti. Although it was not a Formula One Ferrari blowing by me, it was a sporty Dodge Charger going like a bat outta Hell. (Maybe it was Meatloaf?)
I finally round the off-ramp that leads toward my house and this is where it's always f*cked up, regardless of what day of the week it is. I don't know who designed that flow of traffic, but they should have had their head smacked. It is completely R-worded. Then, as if that overflow of traffic wasn't bad enough, there's a van stalled at the next set of lights, but the dummy behind the wheel didn't bother to put on her 4-way lights to alert other drivers that she was inoperable. Hoards of drivers were stuck behind her, myself included, all of us unbeknownst that she wasn't going anywhere. Drivers are already being dicks and not allowing people to go around her, so many of us were stuck. I was two cars behind her stranded van and I was there for nearly 15 minutes or roughly three songs on he radio. They weren't even good songs, which made the experience even worse.
I love my truck. I love driving my truck. What I don't love is driving my truck in this minefield of ridiculous drivers. As much as I think small towns suck, I doubt they ever need to deal with this much bullshit.
I don't have a point to this blog. Not today. There's no humour. No thought-provoking discoveries. Just a bitch-session. In fact, I think that's what I'll title this blog, today.
Ozzy Osbourne posing with his Pleasure-Way RV.
with Ozzy's Pleasure-Way RV.
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