Wee Hour Gridlock

The phone woke me at 11:30. A lady at a downtown hotel was suffering an allergic reaction. This was not bad news; downtown is not too far, I charge extra for calls that get me out of bed, freeway traffic is light, and I can sleep late. I wrote down the information and dressed.

Traffic was minimal, but as I approached the freeway interchange leading to downtown, a line of traffic cones forced me to the outside lane. The ramp heading north was closed. The highway department schedules inconvenient maintenance for the wee hours, and I occasionally encounter these obstructions. No problem, I thought. I continued on to the next exit and re-entered the freeway to retrace my route. Cones appeared, so the other north ramp was also blocked. By the time I learned this, I was forced onto the freeway heading south. Again I left at the first exit only to discover no on-ramp in the opposite direction.

Fortunately, there was Figueroa, the main street through downtown, so I decided to follow it. That turned out to be everyone’s idea, so I joined a gridlock that crept north.

I apologized for arriving an hour late, and the patient was too polite to express skepticism that heavy traffic at 1 a.m. was responsible.