Well today was fun. Like I said yesterday, I am dealing with a cold. It’s nothing major – just a 100-101 fever – but when you’re going into work for nine hours, it feels much worse. On the bright side of things, I was the only one in the building today. After I coughed on a few keyboards and licked several computer screens that belonged to my co-workers, I went about doing the job thing. That was at 11 a.m. Fast forward to 8:15 p.m. I did what I wanted to do. Got to pimp in my sweatpants, scratch the stubble on my unshaven face and listen to music that is normally inappropriate for the workplace. So far so good. Then I started the commute home.

My usual workday schedule is 6:30 a.m. – 3 p.m., and this is because most days I am able to avoid rush-hour traffic. Sure there can be some minor backups, but nothing like the way it is at 9 a.m. or 5 p.m. Normally it would only take me 45 minutes one way during a normal workday, but since the better half and I carpool this extended trip usually eats up another 15 minutes. No biggie. After all, we’re saving on gas, parking (Mrs. kkk would otherwise have to park in the city with one of the highest, if not the highest, parking tax in the country) and general wear and tear on two automobiles; seeing how one of our cars is an ’88 Corsica with 140,000+ miles, let’s just say that “Crappy the White Car” (what my 9-year-old nephew-in-law calls our secondary vehicle) has survived well past his normal expiration date. Now one of the plusses of working weekends is that there is virtually no traffic and I oftentimes can get to work in just 30 minutes on these special occasions.

I think you know where I’m going with this here entry.

I got into the car and started my journey home. The first leg of my commute went fine. I got on and off the Parkway West and headed onto the second leg of the trip, which is the Parkway East. Now if traffic is REALLY backed up on this disaster of a road, I am able to get off at a Shittsburgh exit, drive through the city and end up on Rt. 30, which is the final major road on my adventure home. Sure it takes a little longer, but it’s still more efficient than sitting in gridlock on this interstate highway. Well tonight, right after I passed this exit, which is like my “last chance stop” from taking the Parkway East I saw all those rear red lights.

Oh, fuck.

Whenever I run into gridlock I sometimes like to look at the clock and time how much time I spent in the traffic jam. The time was 8:23 p.m. As I sat in this traffic I began wondering what was going on: Was there an accident? Did some major social event just conclude? Wait a second, this is Shittsburgh. OK, where is the accident? As I took out “The History of the Clash, Disc 2” from the CD player I suddenly had the local RIGHT-WING RADIO station on, and there was a live broadcast of the Shitt v. Rutgers college football game. Christ, I forgot that this game was an evening contest. Wait a second, it was early in the fourth quarter and Pitt was driving for a touchdown; no way this traffic from that game. And there go two police cars with their lights on. SHIT! A few miles pass and still now sign of an accident. Hell, I don’t even see the flashing lights in the distance. I was hoping the accident took place at a merge point that’s right next to the Squirrel Hill Tunnels. I can pass the scene, view the carnage and shoot through the tunnels. I used to not look at accident scenes, but now I figure if I have to be stuck in traffic for an unspecified period of time then I get a free glance at what was delaying my ride home. Uh-oh. The yellow caution lights are flashing right before the tunnels, and there is still no accident, or flashing lights, in sight.

It is now 8:50 p.m. and I’m in the middle of tunnels. Oh please don’t let a car in front of me break down. You know what pisses me off about automobile accidents? You don’t know who to get pissed off at. In most accidents there’s usually an asshole that caused the accident and then the victim that has his or her car totaled. I’m not going to blame that person, but I so want to throw a piece of chewing gum at or give the middle finger to the NASCAR driver wanna-be who thought a two lane road was actually the Talageda Speedway. I think there should be a law that if you recklessly drive and cause an accident, then you owe everyone who was stuck in your mess a full tank of gasoline. Well I’m now out of the tunnels, and my greatest fear was revealed. The flashing lights are another mile or two down the road at this other exit that has a dangerous merge point. But a funny thing happened on my way to the flashing lights – there was no accident. Or at least there was no accident in view. But I did notice that the Swissvale exit, which is right before that aforementioned merge point, was experiencing a backup of monumental proportions. So there was no accident on the Parkway and the backup I’ve been experiencing for the 40+ minutes was because of this?! You got to be shitting me. Once I got past this exit there was NO TRAFFIC ON THE ROAD. Where the fuck did all these cars that were in front of me wind up going? You know, when you live near a shit-town one of the perks is that there shouldn’t be these kinds of traffic stoppages. Oh, and the Panthers lost. Was there any doubt? You can’t play the freakin’ Citadel every week.

Anyway, once I got off the Parkway it was 9:10 p.m. – my commute home so far has reached 55 minutes, and I still had to go onto Rt. 30. Who knows what excitement lurks here? Surprisingly, this leg of my trip wasn’t too bad. However, that was because I was mostly in the left-hand lane for the whole time. There’s this one stretch of road that for some reason cars just break down at, and this is not a good spot to break down. Now it’s dark out and the speed limit is 45 mph, which means most everyone is going at least 15 mph above that. I noticed the broken down car in the righ-hand lane, and then I noticed a car behind me swerving into the left lane to avoid it, almost hitting another vehicle in the process. And the best part was there were no flares. Nobody trying to warn other motorists. Just a car with blinking lights. I thanked my lucky stars I was leaving this soon-to-be accident scene. Oddly enough, a few miles down the road I saw a police car and ambulance speed by me going toward where that broken-down car was located.

I finally got home at 9:30 p.m. What was normally a 40-to-45-minute drive at this time of night took twice as long to complete. Oh well, at least I didn’t have to get off at that Swissvale exit. I'm still pondering whether to return to the office tomorrow. At least the Steelers are playing at Atlanta Sunday.