I’ve been lost so many times there is no way to count, or even convey what it’s like; other than to say it’s scary, makes me feel stupid, and I hate it.
Poor directions and wrong turns cause me to become so disoriented I get sick at my stomach, desperate and nervous as I struggle to find my way. Yes, I stop and ask directions, I’m a woman; women have a need to know where they are, or where we’re going!
But, my real “beef” is directions, and the way people give them! Seriously, have you ever gotten directions from someone and they were right? Probably not, more than likely they were completely wrong, dead wrong, and you were just as lost as you were before you asked.
Attempting to follow directions for driving on interstate highways is the most nerve-racking experience, ever. I detest it, hate it with a passion. Every time I drive on an unfamiliar one I either get the directions wrong, or I’ve been given the directions incorrectly!
If you accidently take the wrong exit off an interstate you can’t turn around to go back without driving at least 10 miles out of the way.
Being faced with a million signs to read while zipping along at 70 mph desperate to find your highway exit is beyond distracting. Heaven forbid you slow down to read signs, other drivers will honk you for poking along, usually make nasty gestures as they pass, which makes you feel like the biggest dork-head-lost-out-of-towner on the road.
And forget about memorizing sign systems to find your way. They change from state to state, with some cities and towns competing for who can come up with the most disorganized and frightening navigation system in the USA. Don’t even ask me to describe driving in the South; I just pray more while driving south of the Mason-Dixon Line.
Asking for directions from anyone in the lower southern states has got to be the most daunting experience ever. The significant geographical and cultural differences exhibited by Southerners when giving directions is beyond comprehending.
They say things like “jog to the left when you come to the fork in the road, bear right, turn up, or down (what direction is up or down?) after the third traffic light turn left, wait, no turn right. About a mile down the road, past the old Mullen place, go east on the Farm Road by the church, it will take you right to it.”
Within 10 minutes I’m lost again.
My ability to retain directions isn’t the best from someone speaking at the same time they chew tobacco or with a heavy accent. I’ve got to write it down, otherwise it isn’t worth trying to figure out.
And driving in rain, fog, sleet, or snow and ice is so difficult for me I get lost or turned around so badly I would have been better off staying at home!
I suppose I could be labeled a navigationally challenged driver. I’ve gotten directions so wrong to where I’ve found myself in warehouse districts regular people should not be driving through, in neighborhoods with abandoned vehicles sitting stripped like skeletons, or finding myself in areas one should not be with children!
Thank God for inventors and scientists who created the GPS system for automobiles; I can now have correct directions in the snap of a finger.
Hopefully, I’ll have better luck next time when I ask for help in understanding the “user friendly” instructions other than those given by the cashier at the convenience store.
He said he had difficulty with the directions.
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