How to Find a Silver Lining in a Fog Bank (Part 2)

The original title was going to be ‘Why Drive When Walking is Faster’.

As Mika left for Okinawa to see her family, I headed home on what I thought was a highway. In reality, it was a parking lot that moved at the speed of a fart. As soon as I exited off of 495 HWY onto South bound 95 HWY at mile marker 170, I was forced into being held captive by a road system that not even those in the carpool lanes could escape from.  

As anyone who has had the dishonor of having their tax money misused would look upon this road system and its upkeep would agree that they would want those responsible for this travesty to have every orifice of their body repeatedly filled with their own bile and excrement with both force and longevity. In the course of two hours I was able to travel a grand total of less than 40 miles. And by the time I reached the exit for 295 HWY, which goes around Richmond, Virginia, it was still bumper to bumper traffic.

Only on the 295 HWY was anybody really able to make any headway. That is except for the multiple times that the slow drivers decided to travel in the far left lanes. Slow drivers in this lane was an old red pickup truck with a tarp full of trash in the back of it, at least three caravans and an assortment of other cars whose drivers thought driving 10 miles slower than the posted speed limit would make them feel like a safe driver.

As soon as the 295 HWY merged back onto the 95 HWY system, the parking lot was there waiting for many of us. Speed up for several yards then come to a complete stop. Didn’t matter which lane you were in, nobody was driving even close to the posted speed limit. I almost feel sorry for one car in the fast lane that was driving so slow that people driving around them was flipping them the finger and yelling out of the car window at these people. I say almost because I was behind them going about 50 MPH in a 70 MPH speed zone.

I had until 5:30 PM to have the rental car returned to the place in Knightdale, NC or I was going to be charged for another day’s rental. By the time I made it to the 64 HWY exits it was 5:02 PM. I had 47 miles to drive in less than 30 minutes. Due to my upbringing in a society where speed limit signs are meant as a form of suggestion, I hit the petal and drove as if I was in a NASCAR race. Speeds reaching 80 MPH and more in a 70 MPH zone as I weave in and out of a now more relaxed road system.

I finally reached the car rental place at 5:22 PM. Those at the rental agency knew that I was going to the DC airport and were very much surprised that I actually made it back in time. No extra fees to pay and I was then able to release a lot of built up stress from what I felt was a six hour road trip from hell. I couldn’t enjoy the driving nor could I even enjoy the radio due to travelling on an antiquated road system.

As I called to see when my ride was going to pick me up, I noticed that I had a text message from my wife. In my entire road trip of hell I never noticed that she had texted me. A simple message to be careful as I drove home. She must have sent the text just before her plane took off. And as I’m standing outside a car rental place, looking at this text, I totally forgot the headache and pains of driving back home. I could only think about her.

Getting home and getting the boys to bed as I quickly feel asleep myself, I was awakened around 3:30 AM. It was Mika at Japanese airport bus stop. She made it safely there but she was more concerned about me and wanted to know if I was OK. We talked for only a few minutes as she waited for her bus to arrive. But as I was still very tired from little sleep and high stress, I couldn’t go back to sleep for a good while.  Just hearing her voice gave me the energy to stay awake. Even though I was still dead tired and really wanted to go back to sleep, I couldn’t. So I watched TV until I fell back asleep. But I went back to sleep thinking only of her and not the headaches and pains of that day. My silver lining was always with me the whole time, no matter how far away we were from each other.