When I'm Tired ...

When I'm tired, I just want to get home. Case-in-point: after the Dave Matthews concert, the traffic was backed up on the main road so I diverted to a side street. About 100 feet down the road, there was a road closed sign. No worries. I jumped the curb and drove on the sidewalk. Oh if my car could tell stories …

Anyway, after the Brad Paisley concert, all my usual secret tricks to get out of the parking lot quickly were doomed to failure. When I walked out and saw dozens of “tailgate” parties in progress after the concert, I knew it was going to be a long night. It wasn't that bad, really, but fifteen minutes of waiting at midnight can be one long time.

As I was driving east towards I-15, I saw those magical flashing police car lights.  I wasn't speeding nor did I run a stop sign nor had I been drinking alcohol.  Still, I had doubts about whether I could pass a sobriety test as I was too tired to get up and walk a straight line.  I was so relieved that the officer only wanted to tell me my headlight was out.

I was never so glad to be home at 12:51 am.