VISITING THE JAIL UP IN WAYSIDE a tale of woe

It could have been a breeze to visit my client in Wayside which is a part of the County Jail system.  That was the plan.  Leave first thing in the morning from the west side of Los Angeles and zip up the 405 - if I hit it right - there I am - at the Peter Pitchess Honor Rancho aka Wayside, aka, County Jail, in Castaic, maybe 45 minutes later. But it turns out to be not a breeze.  And it's all my fault.  

I figured I'd whizz down south on the 405 to Long Beach court house first just to drop off some paperwork.  And then whizz back up the 405 to hit Wayside.  Things started to slow down when the clogged traffic makes me decide to go look for someplace to eat breakfast and I get off the freeway and go wondering around Manhattan Beach.  The problem is I don't know where to eat breakfast in Manhattan Beach - I'm not going to Denny's no matter what - by the time I get back on the 405 south, I'm hungry and already way behind in my plan. 

Of course by the time I get to Long Beach I've gotta find someplace to eat breakfast there don't I?  And I gotta get the New York Times, don't I?  What am I supposed to read at breakfast.  But Borders doesn't have the NY Times - there's a big problem with NY Times distribution in Long Beach (that's too big an issue to go into right now) so I get the Wall Street Journal which is actually always a good move and well now I might as well get a latte. 

After dropping the paper work off at court (my fee dec if you gotta know) I'm back up on the 405 north.  

Now I'm flying but as I'm getting over the hill and nearing Ventura Boulevard I note that it's 11:30am.  Goddammit! MIGHT AS WELL GO FOR LUNCH.  I was going to wait till after I saw my guy - as a reward - but I'll be honest - I have a problem with this gratification delay thing- always have - AND - for some reason I'm kind of sleepy.  I've got no choice.  

I pull off the freeway and drive east on Ventura Boulevard hoping to spot Art's Deli or something good.  BUT there's alot of construction work on the Boulevard and traffic isn't moving, so I park. I walked and walked and it's hot - this is the Valley - it's over 90.  There's a Borders and yeah baby, I got my NY TIMES.  Across the street there's a place shouting out to me - it's called "HAMLET" - whatamigonnado?  I get a burger.  No fries.
By the time I get to NCCF it's 230pm.  
I wait in front of the glass for 15 solid minutes while the deputy inputs something –and loudly ignores me.  I'm not saying a word.  Who am I to kvetch about waiting.  
The drive back I never stopped once even for a snack - the traffic was too good.

Oh I did visit my guy.  It was nice.