Some days, even the simplest things get ‘way more complicated than they need to be.
As I mentioned in an earlier post, sometimes I’m convinced I’m speaking Swahili because nobody seems to grasp what I’m trying to say, no matter how many different ways I phrase it. I’m convinced it’s the Universe’s way of keeping me humble enough to summon up some charity and patience when somebody else suffers a brain/speech malfunction.
But sometimes it’s really difficult to refrain from beating my head against the nearest hard surface…
We were going to a store that had recently moved. I was driving, and my passenger (who shall remain nameless to protect the guilty) was giving me directions. I knew we were going to 9th Avenue, but I wasn’t sure of the address.
Calgary is divided into quadrants, so there are four possible locations for any given address. Without the suffix “SW”, “SE”, “NW”, or “NE”, you’re lost. I was pretty sure the store was in one of the southern quadrants, but I didn’t know which one:
Me: “What’s the address?”
Passenger: “I don’t know the actual address, but I know where it is.”
Me: “Okay, where is it?”
Passenger: “On 9th Avenue.”
Me: “I know it’s on 9th Avenue, but where?”
Passenger: “Just take Bow Trail.”
Me: “I know how to get to 9th Avenue, I want to know where I’m going once I’m on 9th Avenue.”
Passenger: “I’ll tell you where to turn.”
Me: *suspenseful pause* “And… where will I be turning?”
Passenger: “It’ll be a left turn.”
Me: “Congratulations, you’ve given me no useful information whatsoever. Where the hell is it on 9th Avenue?”
Passenger: “Oh! It’s at the corner of 9th Avenue and 11th Street.”
Me: “Southwest or Southeast?”
Passenger: *growing impatient with my obtuseness* “No! It’s on the northeast corner of 9th Avenue and 11th Street.”
Me: *gritting teeth* “The northeast corner of 9th Avenue and 11th Street Southwest or 9th Avenue and 11th Street Southeast?”
Passenger: “Oh…! Southwest.”
Before you make any assumptions about gender vs. navigation skills, I’d like to point out that my passenger was male. Just sayin’.
I can’t imagine how the phrase “It’s on the northeast corner of 9th Avenue and 11th Street Southwest” could have become any more complicated. What should have been a five-second exchange turned into a ridiculous “Who’s On First” comedy routine.
It might have been funnier if I hadn’t been playing the part of the straight man while trying to steer my car through traffic to an unknown destination.
But it’s okay. I know with absolute certainty that within days of posting this, I’ll be the one in the passenger seat, obfuscating the directions while the driver’s blood pressure rockets into the danger zone.
Come to think of it, I seem to recall the following conversation not too long ago:
Hubby: “I’m supposed to turn left here?”
Hubby: “Right? Shit!” *swerves over two lanes of traffic*
Me: “No, left! I meant, that’s right… that’s correct; you’re supposed to turn left… Never mind, I’m an idiot.”
Thanks, Universe. I owe ya one.
Anybody else have one of those “Who’s On First” moments lately?
P.S. I’m so pumped – my new book cover designs are finally done! Check ‘em out in the “My Books” panel at the right – or bigger versions here. They should start hitting the stores in a week or two.