Southbound on the 405

I grew up in Oklahoma, where it is possible to have sixty miles of highway between two buildings, without any other buildings in between. You could assume that this would be a beautiful landscape. I might adjust your perception by mentioning that the same stretch of highway is completely straight and completely flat, and then you would have to admit that this landscape is incredibly boring. Unless you are driving down the highway during a huge tornado. Which does happen, and is not boring.

Another thing you might ponder, after some more thought, is that such a lonely highway does not support the need of public transportation. And then you might surmise that the towns, which are sixty miles apart, are probably not densely populated, but are in fact rather spread out. In short, you might deduce that there are plenty of open spaces and only one way to traverse them: by car. You would be correct. The good news is, when there are plenty of open spaces, there’s lots of parking.

So while I grew up with cars as a part of my life and feel comfortable driving one, driving in Los Angeles is not the same as driving in Oklahoma. This has to do with a general lack of open spaces. So, in addition to feeling anxious about parking, which (horrors!) sometimes must be done in parallel, I am generally anxious when other cars are present. Which is, in fact, all the time.

Highways are not called highways in California. They are called Freeways. This is, presumably, because they are always gridlocked. Because that makes sense. And the worst of the worst, the most abysmal Freeway in existence, is the 405.

I experienced Interstate 405 for the first time when I drove to the Store for my interview. I had unintentionally managed to avoid this odious stretch of Freeway for the first four months of my residence in Los Angeles, but google maps finally betrayed me when I searched for directions to the mall. I spent forty minutes crawling along between the bare hills in the baking sun, and forever afterwards have hated that freeway. I have spent the year or so since devising ways to avoid this freeway, and I wasted no time finding out how to cut it completely out of my LA life. In fact, when the hiring manager at the store asked me if I had any questions about the job, I asked her how to get to work without setting a tire on that blasted free way. She told me to take Beverly Glen Boulevard. Best advice EVER.

Unfortunately, there’s really no way to get all the way to Santa Monica without using the 405. And that’s exactly where the Recruiter wanted me to go (looking gorgeous, of course.) The Hedge Fund, while located in Santa Monica, was operational during the hours that the New York Stock Exchange is open, which is from 6am Pacific to 2pm Pacific. One would suppose that driving from the Valley to Santa Monica at 5:30 am would be simple and easy. There are a couple reasons this was not true. One, driving on the 405 is never easy. Two, 5:30am is never easy.

I’m not used to hurtling along at 70 mph on a dark freeway before dawn, tailgating the guy in front of me and being tailgated by the guy behind me. I’m an Okie, and when I learned to drive, if I felt like pushing the speedometer up to 80 and continuing at such a speed for 60 miles, I only did so when I couldn’t see any cars in front of me, nor any behind. And this was on a straight, flat road. Sans tornado.

But Southbound on the 405 I went, in the dark and half asleep, hoping I looked gorgeous for the Hedge Fund.