As you might know I have a 45 second rule when it comes to someone telling me about their dream. After 45 seconds I'm no longer listening.
I also have a 45 second rule about telling me about an accident you almost had. Almosts don't count. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
And after last night's HORRIBLE commute for everyone in the Boston area I've decided bad commute stories now only get the 45 seconds. Sorry, thems my rules.
So anyhow, here is what I did on my horrible commute home last night.
I drove real, real slow cuz traffic was moving real, real slow. And once I realized it was gonna be a slow, slow commute I opened up my windows and just started smiling and waving at folks for no real reason. And then I found a cigar in my car and lighted that baby up (if I was gonna wave and smile at folk, I was at least gonna look cool doing so)
And then Hoag started texting me, and family would call, and then I'd call someone, and then I'd wave and smile some more. And take some puffs off of Joey Cohiba (the cigar, not a guy)
The point of the story?
I can go more than 45 seconds when telling my commute, near accident, or dream stories. You can't.
And what normally takes me 37 minutes to drive took me over three hours (took my brother 5 and 1/2)