I’ve always loved the special relationship people in California have to freeways. My friends from elsewhere still laugh when I use “the” in front of a freeway number instead of “I-” or “Route.” Plus, around here, everyone has a story about traffic. Not all of us, however, have stories that involve standing on a freeway (unless you were on the 10 today). This is one man’s tale (as e-mailed to me from the freeway that was shut down in both directions for something like six hours today):
It’s 11 a.m. right now and I’m standing in the middle of the freeway, and this hot lady also standing in the middle of the freeway comes up to me and says she recognizes me from somewhere but can’t place it. Turns out I went to high school with her husband. Good we solved that problem.
And then we watched an extremely frustrated van driver try to get onto the other interchange by going down an embankment and got stuck. Outstanding.
I saw one lady yelling in her car, and I doubt by the looks of her it was a hands-free cell phone. Possible hook-up for [name deleted to protect the innocent].
And everyone is running out of gas in the middle of the fwy, also outstanding. I’ll keep you posted at my next report at 2 p.m.
© Laura Genao 2007
The Bay Area folks just call the freeways “880″ rather than “the 880.” It feels weird to me to just say 880.
Sounds like bad travel all around town. I can’t print what he said to confirm that it was the 10. The Disney-friendly phrases are dirtbag, no good, run down, putrid, and neglected.
Would that be the 91? Jacknifed Big Rig out in Pomona? Good times.
I had a coworker out in that mess today, too. She saved her tales for her return, though.