I’m trapped in my neighborhood

So here’s something fun.

Apparently, there is a 10K in my neighborhood today. Great, right? I mean, I like running. I like organized races. Sounds like a dandy idea, right?

Wrong.

I just spent literally half an hour driving around my neighborhood trying to get out. I can really empathize with lab rats right now.

There has to be a way out, right? I mean, they can’t trap people in their neighborhoods, right?

Wrong.

I wish I was kidding when I said I have driven up and down every single street only to come face-to-face with a sawhorse blockade. No detour signs. No help from the “friendly” citizens guarding the blockades. There. Is. No. Way. Out.

The only comforting thing about it is that there were about 50 other cars going up and down every street, turning around when they hit a blockade, and then continuing the wild goose chase.

This can’t be legal, right? I tried to call my city’s officials, but apparently they are too good for answering machines. I don’t even know who to complain to. The worst part is that the 10K is to benefit wounded soldiers, so if I call the race officials, I’m officially that girl. But come on. You can’t trap people. I feel like there’s an inappropriate joke buried in there somewhere about taking away people’s freedoms to celebrate the people who fought for freedom, but quite frankly, I’m too irritated to think it through.

I mean, hi. I have things to do on Sunday morning. You can’t assume no one has anything to do on Sunday morning. YOU CAN’T TRAP ME IN MY NEIGHBORHOOD.

You know I have no shame when it comes to writing angry letters. Anyone have any ideas who I can complain to about this? Because I will not tolerate this happening again next year.

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