On my trip to the South in America, the freeway traffic was terrible. I could not get into the lane that was to take me to my destination. I was bumped off into a mile high pile of dirt, and no signs -- only big caterpillar trucks -- another looked like an ivory tower glass cage.
I finally got out of the car to ask directions, only to get soaked by a water truck, and a lecture from the man who crawled out of his ivory tower glass cage. Still, no signs. I think he wanted me dead. The directions he gave: "Take the first street to the left." Off I go, only to turn into a jillion cars speeding toward me. I went over a bush and upon a fence and watched them speeding off.
I made a quick turn and followed the pack back on the freeway. Only about 30 miles out, I see a sign El Paso. Wrong way for me again. I looked for another exit, and started backtracking on dirt roads toward the city.
Now, I'm down in the city -- lost again, asking for directions. I spotted a little bearded man. I just knew he could tell me! No dice! He couldn't speak English. The next young man walking along with his coat on his shoulder. I inquired how to find the freeway. He replied, "For $5, I will tell you. I just got out of jail." The next one -- a gal jogging. When I rolled my car window down, she through up her hands as if I were going to rob her.
Finally, I arrived at my destination Rio Rico. After all that traffic, speeding cars, and nutty people, I find my home town Payson quite peaceful. Only to say on East Bonita -- some of the drivers should own an airplane -- they sure like to fly.
Kitty Lucek, Payson