This is what happened: Impeccable Timing 2 at 12:00

I suck at timing the drive home. I had made it all the way without encountering hardly any traffic; but of course, once I hit Los Angeles I hit the sea of red. The Red Sea, if you will. Of traffic.

Literally crawling along, I started texting people to announce my arrival - What are you doing tonight? Hey, I'm gonna be home in three hours. Are you busy?

K texted me back. Come over at 9.


It was 1900. I'll try. Do you have food?


K: Yeah, we have food.


Without traffic this last leg would only take me forty minutes. That's never happened, though, and the average time it took me to drive back to Irvine from Northridge, where I had lessons, took me an hour and a half.


At 2030 I, impatient at the Jamboree exit, decided to get off the freeway rather than wait another 10 minutes to travel a mile to the exit that would take me home. As soon as I was on the offramp, however, I realized I'd never navigated to K's house from this direction. It was somewhere to the east, and north. I went down Jamboree and turned on familiar neighborhood street names. With every solitary intersection I encountered and waited for the light I regretted more and more getting off the freeway an exit early.

Finally I pulled into the neighborhood and circled around, looking for parking - the streets were unusually full. I quickly parallel parked and walked up to K's house, keys still in my hand. As I knocked I checked the time on my phone.

2100.