So for those of you who may be unfortunate enough to drive in southern Phoenix anytime soon, you should know that there are two freeways called the 202, which goes around the bottom of Phoenix. They run parallel. Why didn't they name the second (more Southerly) one the 303? I got lost today. Thoroughly lost - like, wandering through neighborhoods while trying to find a freaking freeway lost. And as I came through the suburban Hell, we randomly went across what turned out to be the 60 ... but there was no obvious way to get onto it. No on-ramp, nothing. It was just taunting me. This is already after like 3 hours of driving in rush-hour traffic. I wanted to kill someone, preferably whoever decided 303 was a bad number. As I drove over it, I turned to my wife (who was also in the truck at the time though much more amused by the situation) and said, "You know, if this truck had better suspension, I think I'd just drive right off the bridge." And I was completely serious.  | Currently listening :
I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning
By Bright Eyes |
Labels: driving, joke, Phoenix, truck |
