Red Lights, Wrong Assumptions, and a BMW to the Rescue

I like to think of myself as a punctual guy with a sixth sense for airport timing—kind of like a human flight tracker crossed with a motivational speaker for traffic lights. Turns out, my inner GPS runs on pure hope and bad math. If you’ve ever tried to beat the clock, the construction crew, and your own overconfidence in one mad dash to Arrivals, buckle up. You’re in familiar territory.

Yesterday I was driving to the airport to pick up a friend returning from a trip to Vegas. You’d think I’d figure it out one of these days. I have a mental map of how long it takes me to drive to the airport. When I calculate this mental map I do not consider the possibility of getting a red light, traffic jams, or highway crews working on construction. I do not recommend this type of mental map to anyone who wants to avoid stress. I went online to check a flight tracker. My friend’s plane left on time and was scheduled to arrive 2 minutes early. I checked the time on my iPhone, glanced at my laptop, mentally visualized traffic parting on the highway and letting me zip right through. I decided to delay my leaving for the airport by another 15 minutes. Fifteen minutes later i recheck my friend’s flight status. This time the flight checker gave the plane’s gate arrival, which was the last gate on that terminal wing. I knew her seat number and she was sitting toward the rear of the plane. Why, I could wait another 8 minutes. Five minutes later I again checked with the flight tracker. OMG, the plane was now arriving 5 minutes early. My calculations were not accurate. I went into my garage, got in my car, pulled out and headed for the airport. Thirty seconds later, an alarm went off in my brain. “Ray, did you close the garage door?” I checked my rearview mirror and looked at any signs of oncoming traffic. All clear. I made a U turn as I were in a movie car chase scene. When I got back to my home. The garage door was down. I lost two minutes. I had to make up the time. I have 4 traffic light before I get to the highway. Bing, bing, bing, and bing. All of them red. After the last light, I had a half-mile to make it to the highway,. My brain fired up a big alarm. “Ray, I think there’s a radar trap before you get to the highway.” I was driving toward the top of a hill and can’t see over to the other side. A black BMW comes flying by making me look like a law abiding driver (I was going over the speed limit). When I reached the top of the hill, I saw the BMW pulled over by a motorcycle cop. I slowed down to show the cop I was not like the BMW driver. I was a good citizen. As soon as I got on the highway it was smooth sailing. I pulled into the arrival section just as my friend walked through the doors.

She said, “How was the drive?”

I answered, “Smooth sailing. I don’t like to rush. So, I left with plenty of time.”