One Direction

On the Eastbound 134 in LA, the traffic sign flashes “Heavy Traffic Ahead. One Direction. Use Alt Route through Pasadena.”

This puzzles me. I’m going in One Direction like everyone else, eastbound. Through Pasadena. Is there an Alternate Route?

Then, slowly, ever so slowly, it dons on me… “One Direction” is a Band! (Or at least a bunch of good-looking singer boy-types playing at the Rose Bowl. In Pasadena.)


I m stuck in “One Direction” traffic.


I worm my may over to the next-over lane and make an exit onto the Last Ditch Road to Get Over Before Being Crushed Against the Side-Rail Forever.

I’m Calm. I make my way to the Glendale Avenue.

Me: Girls, this trip was Horrific! Do you even like One Direction?

Julianna (she’s 10): Um… Like… No…. Like, YesterYear…

Iz: One What?

J: No one likes One Direction anymore. You’re so old.

Me: You don’t care about how much I struggled to get here.

J: No.. Because you don’t care about your anytime hours.

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