My plan for today was to win my 11:30 game, grab lunch with the team, and then head back to DC immediately afterward, hopefully beating the Sunday evening rush and arriving home in time to go to bed super early. I’m happy to report we accomplished the first task, despite playing in soaring temperatures that made my slight sunburn turn to living fire.
The second item on the agenda went great as well – had an amazing crab cake sandwich, delicious fries, and a very refreshing drink involving fresh watermelon and vodka – definitely the food highlight of the weekend (Which actually isn’t saying much sadly – let’s just say I had a really bad experience involving a place called Fat Man’s Subs and $5 pizza). The only hitch came when we tried to pay for the meal. There were 7 of us and somehow this totally stumped our waiter. For reasons passing understanding, the paying process took over 45 minutes.
So we leave at 3:45 and I’m thinking we still have a good chance of getting home at a decent hour. My friend offered to drive after my vodka intake and all was well until I opened my eyes to find us completely stopped in traffic.
We would remain there for the next hour. Later we found out that a multiple-vehicle car accident had just happened about four miles ahead of us. I tried not to hate both the waiter that had stolen those apparently-crucial 45 minutes from us and the two players from our team who had skipped lunch and sailed right through.
Needless to say I had plenty of time to study the semi truck next to us, and I alternated between a grudging respect for his sarcasm skills and annoyance at his attempt to virtually flip off anyone within his vicinity.
After 6 hours of fighting traffic (I-64 completely kicked my ass…for that matter so did I-95) for a trip that should have taken 3.5, I came to understand why someone who does this for a living might need an outlet for their frustration.