My friends and I have a tendency to get lost in Canada. A lot.
Since we all live in the States, unless we have access to wi-fi, we must revert back to the pre-cellular device days and thus are required to look for familiar landmarks, ask for directions, or try to read a map with very tiny print. Inevitably, the simplest directions somehow get clouded in an array of one-way streets, signs that we swear can only be read if you’re driving in a certain direction, and the frustrating inability to phone a friend.
But we love it.
Or, at least I do.
Nothing, and I stress nothing, is more satisfying than finally reaching your destination after hours of wrong turns. In fact, that moment when you first step out of the car is guaranteed to be the highlight of your evening. From that point on, you are floating on a champagne filled cloud in the sky, it would take some serious what-the-fuckery to bring your buzz down.
It’s gotten to a point, where I actually kinda/sorta know where I am. Not because I’m familiar with the streets, but because I’ve been lost there so many times before. Which means that while I am not certain of where we should go, I do know which way not to go. And that my friends, is baby-steps.
The truth is, what little shame I may have, is completely gone once I get lost. And then, when I get some much needed directions, I’ll still find a way to get confused and make a wrong turn. It’s almost a guarantee.
Here’s just a sample platter of actual things I’ve done when completely at a loss for where I was:
- Made reckless turns because in the distance I thought I saw the correct road sign.
- Struggled to get information from a clerk who had never heard of where I was trying to go, which was the border. In the end, they gave me a blank stare and I had to ask a guy in the parking lot.
- Stopped in the middle of an intersection and asked the flagger for a detour when they closed down the street that I desperately needed.
- Yelled at some bros partying on a balcony.
- Chased down a mini-van and knocked on the passenger window – the poor lady nearly had a heart attack.
- Blocked a semi-truck with my car, hopped out, stood on the edge of the truck, and proceeded to ask the one toothed man, “Excuse me, how do I get to America?”