No, I am Just Driving Through

I have lived in an around this grand metropolis since 1996. And, apart from major thoroughfares and my oft-traveled routes, I know remarkably little about where certain roads lead. This occasionally causes problems for me, especially as I do not possess a GPS.

(This not an image of my location, but I think is a decent representation of my perception of life as a commuter.)

I like to drive around and explore, and this has helped me expand my knowledge of the city. Recently, though, Little One and I moved from one end of town to the other. We even moved from one county to another. I haven't learned all of the little short cuts and back ways of our new environs yet.

Tuesday morning at rush hour may not be the best time to try to remember a back way to get across town to the office. And yet that is exactly what I did. After dropping Little One of at school, I took a different tack to get to the interstate. As I neared the on ramp and the long queue of cars I recalled driving straight through a couple of lights and then going through a neighborhood, taking a left, and  then being back to a spot where I can get to the office.

So I turned my back on the interstate and the slow-pace of traffic that I knew would await and pushed ahead. All was fine until I can to a 4-way intersection and I couldn't recall which way to go. I had to choose a lane, so I opted for straight.

It was the wrong choice. As it turns out, I was in the line of cars of people dropping of their kiddos at an elementary school. There was no way to turn around. The train of vehicles was routed, ever so slowly, around the teachers' parking lot, and then up the hill to the school. I looked for a way out. There was none.

And, yes, there were teachers opening car doors for parents to expedite the process of getting the kids out of the cars. But I had no child. So when my turn came, I rolled down the window and smiled stating "I took a wrong turn and now I am here." The teacher came me a bit of a concerned smile, and I felt quite uncomfortable, as if I was now going to be flagged as some sort of creepy dude cruising the elementary school.

As I neared the main intersection again, I managed to take yet another bad turn that took me not in the direction that I had sought. It did lead me back to a major road and avoided the siren's song of the back road.

I guess the old adage rings true that "Short cuts make for long delays."