I'm going to divulge my very greatest secret to you, my friends:
my route home from work.
I know what you're thinking, but it is a Big. Deal. to find a route from Notre Dame to Niles that doesn't include the possibility of losing an axle or a tooth hitting or dodging the giant potholes for which every road within the greater Michiana area is famous. Not to mention the road rage and swearing that goes on on 933.
What? Driving makes me angry.
And I found the perfect route: Kenilworth Road, which turns into Third Street.
I've only ever seen one pothole, and it's in a weird place on the road, so there's no chance I could ever hit it. There's nobody on the road in front of me, driving too slowly. There's nobody behind me, riding my bumper because they think I drive too slowly. Nobody cuts me off (with or without using basic turn signal courtesy). I can drive whatever speed I want and no one cares, because no one is there!
And it's not even that long of a trip! My old route(s) took me between 20 and 35 minutes, depending on how fast/aggressively I drove. This route takes 25 minutes.
Twenty-five blissful, perfect minutes from Ave to my driveway. Ninety-nine percent of the time I arrive home in such a good mood that people take notice.
Until yesterday.
Seven cars in front of me. Seven. Cars. The first car was a beat-up junker that proceeded to go 30 in a 40 and 25 in a 30. The only downside to my route is the lack of opportunities to pass, but that's never been a problem before. Argh!
What happened? Who told?
I'm praying that it was a fluke. It better have been, or someone will pay for this. And I'm not kidding.
Tell no one.
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