I had a speaking engagement yesterday in Baltimore, after which I caught a great dinner with friends at a fabulous Afghan restaurant in the Mt. Vernon district called The Helmand. I had the koufta challow, which was fantastic.
On my way out of town after dark, penalized for my indecisiveness at taking a poorly marked offramp to I-95 South, I ended up on the wrong freeway. I only drove about a half-mile or so off course, knowing all the while that I needed to get myself turned around. It was easy to take the next exit ramp, but I ended up in a neighborhood that — well, let’s just say I wouldn’t be surprised to see it featured prominently in an episode of The Wire, whose third season Eleya and I just enjoyed on DVD over the last few weeks. I’m sure it sounds awfully provincial but frankly, even though I don’t mind visiting once in a while, I’m just not an urban dweller at heart. And a fish that knows when it’s out of water, I would say, is a wiser fish, or at least less likely to backflip out of the bowl into a hot griddle.
I was grateful for the dearth of stop signs, and made my way with not a little haste back to the freeway. I had to get back into downtown to make a safe turnaround back to the original I-95 ramp, but made good time getting home. I think I prefer experiencing the Baltimore mean streets on DVD for now.