Day 10 – Navigating the post happy hour racetrack.
It would seem that stone-cold sober driving on our freeways is not for the weak of heart — especially as happy hour winds down on Thursday evenings. Returning from an early dinner out (made easy with t-totalers), traversing the city on four, five, and even six-lane highways in some places, I see maneuvers normally reserved for cop movie chase scenes. Traffic is flowing again after the twice-daily near grid-lock madness.
It’s Thursday evening, the new Friday for many. Those who stopped off for happy hour are now on their way home with a fabulous buzz after a couple of drinks on an empty stomach. The weekend is in sight, there’s space to zip along unhindered. Driving bravado is on the rise, the Formula One wanna-be’s are unleashed on the roads.
Woosh … Yikes! … Did that really happen? … I have to push it to 70mph+ just to keep up. I’m white-knuckling it trying to anticipate the next crazy move. Not sure which is worse: the daytime slow texters, or the after-dark speedy Mario Andretti’s?
Thank goodness I have my wits about me, but this all feels much more scary in my new completely stone-cold sober state. Is tonight different? Am I different? After a normal happy hour I rarely see anything like this. I wonder. The question now lingering in my mind, is, even staying within legal limits, what would this drive have looked like to me after a typical happy hour?
More observations from the other side of alcohol.
Bracing myself for another Friday and Saturday!
All those days that came and went ... 