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.
your story is remarkable and reminds me of when the mother ships legal group was small enough that we all went to nob hill for an offsite, and instead of taking the bauers bus, i decided to drive with a friend, only to get lost, and have to ask for a directions from a lady of the night who had seeped into the day, who then promptly asked us for $5 for her efforts. my weaker co-driver obliged.ReplyDelete
It's funny, but I saw another "lady of the night" give directions to a guy in San Francisco. Maybe that's a secondary career function.ReplyDelete