Last week, I drove from my office in the Peninsula to the eastern waterfront area of San Francisco (aka the Embarcadero) for a big, morale-building lunch with co-workers. I came away feeling great, but that soon soured. Despite the fact that I got myself there and despite the fact I had a GPS enabled navigating device in my hand, I got terribly lost heading back.
Consider the aggravating circumstances I was facing at that time:
- Three highways (the 80, 101, and 280) converging in the same area.
- A maze of one way streets and general ban on left turns
- The beginning of rush hour.
- Ambiguously placed street signs indicating that perhaps one should turn left immediately in front of the sign or perhaps several blocks down the street.
- A full bladder
- The misguided belief that I am not a moron at all times.