So, I was supposed to attend a coworker’s Christams party last night. Before I left school on Friday he called me from his classroom and offered me a map to his home. I am not normally directionally challenged. “I’ve been there already, remember? Don’t worry. I’ll find it.”
He said, “That was a couple of months ago. My sub-division is pretty tricky. You’d better come get the map just in case.” I declined.
I don’t suppose I even have to finish this story. You already know …. I drove around in the subdivision maze for an hour and a half. The streets twist, wind, dead-end, double back and turn one-around-the-other so much that it is impossible to tell north, south, east and west. Every house looks the same. They are all beige, have identical red tile roofs, and manicured postage stamp yards. The only way to tell one home from another is by the SUV’s in their driveways.
I called my friend — nobody answered the phone. Then I called a friend I knew would be attending. Of course, she was too polite to take her cell phone to the party. So I drove in circles hoping I would come across a home surrounded by familiar cars. Instead, I rediscovered the main road out and took it like an Indy driver on the last lap of 500. I had a desperate need to be where the streets were straight and rolled toward home.