The radio sucks, my iPad is dead and I don’t have any CDs. There’s an hour of gridlocked traffic ahead of me. Here’s the list of things that amused me in the San Francisco car park also known as the 92.

1. Laugh at anything that could be at all construed as blue humour.
Don’t underestimate the amount of time this will amuse me. It’s gonna be a long time, every time. Case in point:

2. Started my career as a  music reviewer.

Here’s the play: you sit in the middle or right lane, wind down your window and start critiquing the music blaring from the car next to you. Tip: It’s always going to be loud, gangsta rap. Extra points if you can get them to turn it down to hear what you’re saying.

3. Reminded myself that people can be, and are, arseholes. People will use exit lanes to get marginally ahead of you in the queue. Curb your rage by making up stories about them.

For example, the senior gentleman in the cerulean Ford hatchback was having an intense toilet emergency. Hence his need to come out of nowhere and push his way in front of me. It was necessary to keeping his dignity intact. I can appreciate that. Drive on sir.

The woman carrying on, what seemed to be a business meeting over her hands-free at full-blast, was probably on her way to the airport to pick up a long-lost step brother that she’d never met before and didn’t know existed until a month ago. Hurry lady!

Books set in California (to inspire wanderlust)

You get the picture.

4. Marvel at some fine bridgework. I’ll give credit where it’s due – San Franciscans know how to build a good bridge. Apparently a good bridge is a long bridge. This one goes on forever.

5.  Got a song in your head? Sing it!
Especially if that song is this one and you sing it really loudly and off-key (It’s more fun that way). For bonus points make sure all your car’s windows are rolled down, look straight ahead and refuse to acknowledge the people staring at you.
And that’s all I’ve got unfortunately. Stay tuned for next week’s blog, where I describe watching paint dry.
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