I drew this picture this weekend:
Not only does it reveal I have the artistic talent of a 5-year-old, but my frustration at life is also evident in its large swirly lines and chaotic loops. Unfortunately, this e-penned frustration isn't simply metaphorical. Oh no, it's a fairly accurate representation of the route my SuperShuttle driver took to get from Baltimore International Airport to my freaking house, represented in my art as a delicious can of beans, on Friday.
I kid you not, I was in that cherry-scented blue van for THREE HOURS. Of course, I understand SuperShuttle works as a shared taxi, so I would have to wait for the driver to drop off those people whose homes or hotels may logically come before mine on the route. However, that's assuming the route isn't retarded.
And this route was, indeed, exceptionally retarded. I mean, look at it!
The first stop was in Petworth on Georgia Avenue.
The next stop, My Hobo Lair in Columbia Heights, should've been mine. But it wasn't. To my surprise, the driver turned around and went back up toward Maryland -- Silver Spring, Rockville, Bethesda, some other suburban sh*t that all blended together.
Did I mention after a series of delays and cancellations, my flight didn't land until 12:30 a.m., so this ridiculous escapade was all happening in the middle of the night. I was tired. But imagine how excited I was when there was only one couple and me left in the van. Alas! I would get home soon! Until the driver said this:
"Miss! Do you mind if I drop you off last?"
Mind you, while he asked my that he had already turned onto 495 headed toward Virginia.
"Uh. Are we heading to Virginia?"
"Yes. Next stop Dulles."
"Dulles?! Seriously? You do realize I should've been dropped off second when you were in Petworth."
"Yes. I see that now."
"Now," however, was way too late as we headed toward Dulles, where we ended up driving around the long-term lot to find this couple's car (apparently, their flight got diverted into BWI). Finally, at 3:15 a.m. we were back on I-66.
Oh wait, no. That would be too logical. Instead, he went back on 495 into Maryland again. Then decided to take the George Washington Parkway down through Virginia. That's when I started to feel like this SuperShuttle had turned into a SuperRapeVan. This made no sense whatsoever.
Luckily, possibly because I had been traveling since 6 a.m. and smelled of my own BO and had an "I'm not afraid to murder you in self defense" look in my eye, no crimes were committed. Unless, of course, charging me $37 for a three-hour kidnapping is a crime. I'd file charges if I could.
Finally, after the driver/no-longer-potential-rapist ignored my directions to take 15th Street, which is the only street in DC with timed lights, we made it to My Hobo Lair roughly 30 minutes later. It was about 4 in the morning.
He didn't get a tip.
But I'm back! At least long enough for me to plan my next escape. But don't worry, I'll let you all know the travel dates so you can avoid shared van rides and flights those days. Because if you don't, you'll either be stuck in a shady vehicle with a shady and/or simply idiotic driver, or your flight will be canceled repeatedly. Yet still, that might be better than being in DC...