Why? Yesterday, I got out at 4. It took me 15 minutes to get to my car, so it's about a quarter to 4 when I get in my car. My plan was to immediately drive off. I was afraid that I would be stuck in the middle of afternoon rush, but for some reason I observed a couple clear patches of no traffic.
However, I got a voicemail, transcribed from Google, from Grandmother's nurse. We had been playing phone tag about finding a time for her to come in, but according to the text voicemail (Google has this service where voicemails are transcribed; the transcription is shit with indecipherable words and awful grammar, it's awful and I use it only because my regular voicemail is frequently full with Grandmother's panicked pleadings) she wanted to set up a time real soon. Apparently it couldn't wait.
So I called her back and told her that I'll run the time, Saturday morning, by Mother. (I wanted to get back to her later that day or evening this morning because I think this is a way to stall so that Grandmother won't be put away to a nursing home.) But I get her voicemail, so I leave a message. But then I hear my phone ringing; it's her. So I tell her on the voicemail that I'm ending the message because she's calling in and hit the button to answer her incoming call ... except that I hit the wrong button and send her to voicemail ... so I have to end the voicemail and call her back.
Then, all of a goddamn sudden, after I'm finally done talking to her, every goddamn car in the Twin Cities is lined up at the red light. Seriously, there is a solid line of vehicles in the lane right next to me. This lane feeds out to 35WN, which, obviously, is a very popular way to get home this time of day. I should have thought of that when I parked right to the side of it. But, three minutes beforehand, the coast was clear. Did the pattern of the traffic lights change at 4:15?
So before I could pull out at any time, now I had to wait. And wait. And fucking wait. Those clear stretches were around the time the traffic light in front of me turned red. Now they had cars lined up, so I had to turn on my signal and wait, the car equivalent of getting on my hands and knees begging to be let in. None of those fucking cars let me in, instead driving past me to make that left turn onto the highway. Fuckers.
I basically lost when I thought I saw a semi-clear space while the light was green and there were cars that were kind of close, but far enough that, in my increasingly-agitated state, I went for it. But there was a car in the lane or two over, and right when I was going to shoot the gap, that car darted into the lane and the space I needed to get into. It entered the lane right beside me; if I tried going in, I would've hit it.
And just as I was car-blocked, the light turned red. I put my foot on the brake and punched my horn. The passengers on the next car, a bunch of girls, looked at me like I was honking at them. I hate it when I lose my temper. But I really hate it when I can't fucking get into a lane for five minutes and after I thought I would be able to slide in like a dick into a lubed condom.
On the ensuing green a white SUV had mercy on me and let me in.
I have to park somewhere else from now on, for God's sake.
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