See that map up there? It’s a map that Sheryl printed for me this morning with walking directions to my dentist appointment. Getting to my dentist used to be so easy even I could get there: take the train to Bryn Mawr, get off the train, and there was the dentist. Then they moved.
To say that I’m bad at directions is like saying that Britney Spears is bad at calculus. I get lost in my own neighborhood. So, it was with some trepidation that I ventured to Bryn Mawr this morning in search of my dentist’s new office. I never got there.
Dig if you will this picture. The blue line is the one I should have followed. Simple, straightforward, and to the point. Less than a mile walk. But no, I go all Robert Frost and take the road less traveled by. I freelanced. My path was the red line. It wasn’t in a straight line. Apres moi, le delusion that I could find a shortcut. That didn’t quite work out.
I didn’t walk the line — at least the blue line. (Yep, I’m the red line guy.) I went my own way and walked through a huge open field with dew-dropped grass soaking my shoes and the bottoms of my pants. I went cross country. I walked through someone’s backyard. And guess what? My sense of direction is so bad that I practically made a loop back to where I started.
I called the dentist to tell them I would be late. Their answering machine picked up and said they weren’t in yet. It’s just as well. I need a magnetite injection, not a tooth cleaning.
