A Perfect Commute

It's not often you come across a perfect commute. There's always a tailgater/lanechanger/slowpoke driving stupid or road conditions less than ideal, be it rain, be it snow, be they oil drops dripping from a supercharged Chevy Nova. Not today. Today the commute was perfect in its every moment. Despite the morning chill and dew, my windows were not severely fogged. The line to get onto the freeway was only one car long - mine. The merge was easy because the traffic was spaced out, and I'm not using slang. All the way into town traffic was swimming. It slowed a little on the narrow bridge, but the slowdown didn't result in madman lane changes. Very uncharacteristic. The merge back onto the byways downtown was wide open. The last two blocks to the parking lot I couldn't see another car, and not because I was blinded; because the roads were bereft of automobile traffic (There WERE six pedestrians, but they weren't walking in the traffic lanes.) And (This part is not unusual, because I park in the most inconveniently located lot) I had no trouble finding a parking space.

If I'd been playing Strauss waltzes on the car stereo instead of listening to Bob and Dave cut up about The Balloon Boy it would all have seemed like a dreamy dance.