If I ever have a breakdown it will be in traffic.

I naturally assumed it would be at Giants Stadium.

No, it will be in bumper to bumper traffic.

Yesterday, we left our house at 6am. It took over three hours to arrive in Manhattan.

The drive should take 1 hour 20 minutes.

I tried 5 different highways and they were all backed up.

There is no “off-peak” anymore.

The freeway is basically a 24/7 performance piece titled, Gridlock: The Musical, starring every human being in your metro area and an endless chorus line of brake lights.

Merge on at 6am, 2pm or midnight, it doesn’t matter.

You are immediately forced into the same collective thought. Where are all these people going? Where are they coming from? Why aren’t they somewhere else?

The supporting characters jam the highways.

The Boy Racer. He’s in a Civic that sounds like a caffeinated leaf blower. He rides my bumper like we are  in a NASCAR draft, then swerves around only to slam on the brakes three car lengths ahead. His inner monologue? Something between Fast & Furious audition tape and will my mom notice the insurance premium spike?

The Beauty Guru. She’s curling her eyelashes, steering with her elbow.

 The Wanderer. He drifts across three lanes like a Roomba in search of its charging dock. No blinkers. No destination. Just vibes.

And me? I’m clenching the steering wheel, questioning my life choices and wondering if traffic is just a metaphor for existence…slow crawl, full of questionable characters, no clear destination in sight.

The truth is, freeway driving is less about getting from Point A to Point B and more about preserving your sanity in a rolling, unpredictable improv show. The trick isn’t to fight it. It’s to laugh at the absurdity, check out all the hideous car colors and see how high the backward cap wearing teenage boys can jack up their Ford F-150 and Toyota Tacomas.

The only advantage is I can vacillate between Yacht Rock and Top Pop hits. I can now competently sing along to Sabrina Carpenter’s songs (still cannot figure out why Espresso is such a huge hit), sombr’s lost love lyrics, The Marias and I know every word to Alex Warren’s summer blockbuster, Ordinary.