Just imagine

This morning, there was (allegedly) an accident on Rte 50 which (allegedly) choked up traffic near Bowie, at a place where they really don't need anything else to choke traffic. This the Viking and I learned from one of those large overhead signs which usually asks you to call an 800 number with your terror tips.

Fortunately for us, the sign was placed before the start of the backup, so we were able to leap off on Rte 3 and pick up 450. This route was extraordinarily quiet; either the sign lied to us about the nature of the backup on 50 ('Two left lanes closed!') or the fact of people disappearing for Thanksgiving week eased things. Possibly both.

At any rate, the detour was worthwhile insofar as at least it didn't cost us any extra time, even if it didn't save us any, and it took us past a road sign directing one to Gothic Lane, just east of the intersection with Md 193. (Map linked just so you know I'm not making this up).

We spent the remainder of the commute giggling as we imagined the sort of homeowners' association a neighbourhood of suburbigoths would have. Would ominous stares be directed at the new resident who painted her door cherry red instead of blood red?

And just imagine the lunchroom at Béla Lugosi Middle School.