A Tale of the Place Between Two Cities

I was in the Dallas area this past weekend, with plans to visit the city of Dallas itself and, taking an idea that Mina had awhile ago, set San Jose and Dallas against each other in some sort of comparison death match. However, because it was 100 degrees and 90% humidity, my car was unable to force it's way through the nearly solid air to get to Dallas and instead left me somewhere between there and Ft. Worth, in a sprawling town comprised mostly of strip malls and people driving at least 5 miles under the speed limit, if not more. Lost on long stretches of roads that maintained their names for all of 500 feet before wandering off to points far away along all four cardinalities, I began to worry. I was later bitten by fire ants.


My hope is that my journey does not become a metaphor for the Sharks upcoming season and their games against the Stars, but if it does, I suggest the players look out for run away catering trucks at the airport and check Turco's pads for fire ants. It may seem a tad extreme but it's better to be safe than sorry.
Especially when sorry involves fire ants.