Most of the time, a shutdown is just a fender bender that escalated into a full-blown opera. One person taps their brakes, and suddenly you’ve got a 15-car pileup involving a minivan full of screaming kids and a guy hauling live chickens.
Ever notice how a crash on 95 never happens near an exit? No. It always happens miles from anywhere, like the highway is punishing you for being late. You’re not just stuck; you’re trapped in a purgatory of spilled soda and road rage.
And don’t get me started on the rubberneckers. Everyone slows to 2 mph just to glare at a broken taillight. Thanks, Karen. You just added an hour to my commute.
Construction: The Forever Frenemy
Ah, construction. The highway’s favorite hobby. It’s like 95 is addicted to makeovers. You’ll see signs saying “Bridge Repair – Ends 2026,” and you know deep down that’s a lie whispered by a demon.
They’ll close three lanes at 4 PM on a Friday. Why? Because they can. It’s a power move. You sit there, watching a guy in a neon vest hold a sign that says “SLOW,” and you wonder if he’s actually painting the lines or just vibing.
Traffic Alert: All lanes on I-95 North closed after man found shot – DC
And the worst part? The construction never seems to fix anything. They pave a stretch, and two weeks later, it’s a crater again. I think 95 is secretly a sentient being that hates all of us equally.
