It was bad!
Badder than it has been for a long time.
It was badder than bad!
It was the City of Cardiff's early morning traffic at it's best.
It took us over an hour to crawl through the inappropriately called 'rush hour' traffic on Monday. It was my usual Monday morning twelve mile run (term used very loosely) from Barry into the city to take a client to his place of work.
The regular lead-footed drivers appeared to have taken the day off, handing over their road rage causing duties to those of a more sedate - or sedated - nature.
At the traffic lights at the rear of HMP Cardiff, where the sandstone wall seemed to be festively decorated with tinsel adorned barbed wire, there was a long queue of cars, trucks and buses. Idling engines were pouring out a wonderful, heady mixture of petrol and diesel fumes, which penetrated vehicles even with all windows and vents closed.
I could see the pedestrian lights (or Fred Astair-ian lights as I know call them) changing from red to green and back again. This happened several times, which meant that although I couldn't see properly, that we had also had a green light .... but nothing had moved!
Had someone's car broken down? Had there been a accident?
When, after what seemed like a lifetime of dangerously high bladder pressure, things began to move, the reason for our delay became very apparent.
The traffic light further on, at the next major junction (crossing Newport Rd.) was out of order, thus making it difficult for people to cross.
Chaos ensued as motorised vehicles of all shapes and sizes tried to occupy minuscule gaps in the flow of traffic crossing the junction, much to the annoyance of those that didn't want to give way.
Levity, however, was injected into our frustrating wait as a gentleman of Caribbean origin, sporting the tallest woolly beanie hat that I have ever seen (which no doubt contained that tallest dreadlocks in history) began entertaining the waiting motorists with an impromptu tap-dance across the 'Fred Astair-ian' (now you know why!) crossing and in-between cars. His friend, also seemingly of Caribbean extract, started to waltz with an imaginary partner up and down the rows of vehicles.
Horns were honked!
Some even got out of their vehicles for a better view.
I just wanted to pee!
After a while the dancers, exhausted from their efforts, they gave up and continued there journey on foot into town.
Shortly afterwards, traffic began to roll once more.
You will be pleased to hear that ...
... there was no unpleasantness in my vehicle
... that I did make to to my destination (cursing everyone on the way) and ...
... was able to relieve myself in the proper and appropriate manner.
After that though, I desperately need a jumbo-Latte!
About This Blog
This blog was originally started as a thread on the forum pages of an animal rescue site. Now it's here!
The articles you find in here are purely for entertainment (yours and mine) and (with one or two exceptions) are all tongue-in-cheek chronicles of the World (my bit, anyway) as I see it.
No disrespect is intended towards anyone unless I make a mistake and make it too obvious.
I hope you enjoy my offerings. Feedback and comments of any kind are welcome.
Have a look here too http://symdaddy-humour.blogspot.com/
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