Friday Traffic Means...

 
For those of us who are retired,
Fridays feel like “no drive days;”
From 2:30 ’til 6:00 PM,
“Going-homers” clog highways,
 
Byways and all streets and roads
The traffic moves at speed of worms
So, plans for early sup with friends
Means extra travel time confirmed.
 
It’s best if friends live close because
Their routes are short and thus they miss
Nerve-wracking stops and starts of all
Those bumpers, close enough to kiss.
 
However, naturally, there’s one
Who lives a long way from the rest
And as that lucky soul is moi,
Each Friday is a “friendship test.”
 
Most weeks we meet on Saturdays,
But sometimes Saturdays don’t work;
We meet on Friday, then, instead,
When traffic’s surely not a perk. 
 
But, to be fair, I must report
That every third weekend I get
To choose the place where we will eat
Which will be close to me, you bet!
 
A PS here, so you won’t think
We always eat at restaurants;
We take turns cooking sup, ourselves,
And none of us are dilettantes.
 
We’ve each perfected specialties—
Since we all cooked for fams for years
And calories? My word, I’d say
Our meals leave diets close to tears.
 
And since we start so early, we
Are usually home by 9:00 at least.
I, to write into the night,
And they, to watch the TV beast .
 
But driving home on Friday nights,
Around 8:30, there about
The traffic’s at a faster pace—
The young folk are just starting out.