That's why I moved to an apartment close to the office. My travel time is 15 minutes in normal traffic and 25 minutes in worst case scenario peak hour. Even for this short trip, my newly acquired traffic obsession monitors all signs of danger.
This morning was smooth and my little journey was unmolested by circumstance. Or paedophiles.
However, about halfway along I suddently found myself stuck in a gridlock and only able to move 100 metres in 30 minutes. This was in a normally empty, 100m stretch of road. It was completely jammed so I assumed there was an accident or something.
It did turn out to be an accident, but not quite the type I expected.
As we edged to the front I saw the problem. There was a man wearing dirty brown pants pulled up too high, alongside a filthy baby blue t-shirt which had a tattered "PARKING" patch on one sleeve. He was blowing a bright red plastic whistle and waving his arms like it was nobody's business. This was not ordinary waving and pointing - it was more like a European at the beach, caught in a rip.
I've seen a lot of bad traffic cops here but he was not one of them. This guy was clearly freelancing. A Jakarta peak hour version of the sorcerer's apprentice
As for his audience, no one - not one pedestrian, or driver - was laughing or yelling or showing any signs of frustration. They just seemed to be trying to obey him, even as he urged them to prang into one another.
I was definitely worth the wait. As we passed him, I thought that I must be wrong: that he was possibly legitimate. So I took a double-take. I looked back to see him sternly guiding a minivan into a motorbike with one arm, while urging a non-existent lane to come forward.
He was having a great time and no one was complaining so who am I to pass judgement?
I hope he's there tomorrow.
