Poor Bob. Life was good working from home - rolling out of bed at 8:57 am, coffee in hand by 8:59, and logging on by 9:00 (pants optional). That all changed last month when DOGE (Department of Government Efficiency) announced their latest genius initiative: ending the federal remote work arrangement. Bob's easygoing home-office dream came crashing down faster than cryptocurrency after an Elon Musk tweet.

So now Bob's facing reality - Northern Virginia's infamous traffic hellscape. Two hours of his life, EACH WAY, spent marinating in brake lights and honking horns. But Bob had it even worse: he drives an electric vehicle (EV). Sure, it seemed brilliant at first—save the planet, stick it to Big Oil, and impress the neighbors. But DOGE's bureaucratic brilliance had thrown Bob back onto I-66 during rush hour, and public EV chargers had become his personal nemesis.

Public EV Chargers: Like Dating Apps, But Less Reliable

Day one back at work was bad enough. Bob pulled into the EV charging station near his office in Arlington, feeling smug about his green lifestyle. His smugness lasted exactly 17 seconds—the time it took to realize every charging spot was occupied. Not just by other EVs, mind you. Two were taken by Teslas (of course), but one was rudely commandeered by a gas-guzzling Ford F-150 - known affectionately to EV drivers as “getting ICE'd.” Bob spent the next 20 minutes circling like a shark, waiting to strike.

Finally, a charger opened. Bob plugged in, triumphant, but quickly discovered the station's touchscreen interface was about as responsive as the DMV on a Friday afternoon. After ten frustrating minutes of screen-tapping, cursing, and one accidental Yelp review for an unrelated sushi restaurant, Bob managed to start charging. Forty-five minutes later, his car had gained just enough juice to reassure him he'd make it home—assuming traffic cooperated (spoiler: it didn't).

The Next Week: Rinse, Repeat, and Rage

Every day after was déjà vu. Commute, search for chargers, wait angrily, and spend an extra 30 minutes staring blankly at the “Charging in Progress” screen. Bob's patience drained faster than his EV battery. One day, another fed-up commuter actually tried bribing Bob $10 for his charging spot. Bob countered with $20 and a doughnut. No deal was reached, and friendships were definitely not made.

By week two, Bob was spending half his commute dreaming of the sweet relief of fossil fuels. He even considered siphoning gasoline from his lawn mower, briefly forgetting his car didn't actually use gas. Traffic-induced delirium is real, folks.

The Breakthrough: Bob Discovers a Master Electrician (And Common Sense)

Just when Bob was ready to surrender to a life of bicycle commuting (or worse, Metro), his coworker Janet saved the day. Janet, never shy to rub in her brilliance, explained, “Bob, ever heard of getting a home EV charger installed? You can charge overnight and skip the morning Hunger Games.”

Bob's eyes lit up brighter than his dashboard's battery warning indicator.

After googling “Master Electrician home EV charger install NoVA HELP ME PLZ,” Bob found his savior—a local Master Electrician with 5-star reviews (and not one sushi-restaurant mishap). A quick phone call later, Bob scheduled an installation that would finally restore his sanity - and at least 30 precious minutes per day.

The Install: Surprisingly Painless (Bob Remains Skeptical)

The Master Electrician showed up, friendly and efficient, installing Bob's shiny new Level-2 EV charger in less time than Bob normally spent angrily circling charging stations. Bob watched suspiciously, half-expecting hidden fees, government forms, or DOGE agents to jump out demanding paperwork. None of that happened. Just clean, efficient, and code-compliant installation.

Bob felt relief—and mild annoyance he hadn't done this sooner. “Efficiency,” Bob mused, “What a wild concept. Someone tell DOGE.”

Back on the Road: Bob Reclaims his Life (and Dignity)

With his new home charger, Bob wakes up each morning to a fully charged vehicle, coffee brewed on time, and sanity restored. Sure, he still spends two hours each way commuting because DOGE doesn't understand how productivity works, but at least he's no longer playing Mad Max: EV Edition each morning.

Janet still gloats occasionally (“Told you so, Bob!”), and Bob still secretly curses DOGE under his breath every time he merges onto I-495. But now, he does so knowing he's beaten at least one aspect of his daily commuting nightmare.

If there's a moral to Bob's commuting misadventure, it's probably this: DOGE policies might force you back into traffic, but you don't have to let public EV chargers turn your commute into a second full-time job.

Call a Master Electrician. Install a home EV charger. And save yourself from becoming another commuting cautionary tale—like Bob.