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40 Acres
27 minutes. I was 27 minutes late, and I left 45 minutes early.
This city has a traffic problem. That'd be forgivable if there were places to go and people to see, but there aren't. There's just college football. Fleming’s counts as a "night out" if that tells you anything. That's where I was going. Or trying to go. Fleming's. The locals think it's The French Laundry.
After inching through a bumper-to-bumper miasma on the main thoroughfare, my E350 meandered cautiously into a suburban dystop
H-Man, a very good piece and when I say a good piece, it is one that makes you think rather than simply rolling with the discourse,
P.S. This adventure to the city should be over and it is time to return to the island for your own well being.