When you have an adventurous spirit, it's always good to get directions first. Even if you think you know the general direction you are headed, it typically doesn't do you much good. As a matter of fact, even with directions it's possible to still get lost. Not comprehending these three facts is one of my greatest weaknesses.
Here are just two incidents where I should have been prepared before heading to me desired location. In one case, I had never been to the place I was seeking and in the other case, I had.
Two weeks ago my sister-in-law, Katie, and I went to Florida to surprise-visit my family. Our flights landed in Orlando at about 11:30 in the morning and my parent's flight (they were traveling with us) didn't land until 4:30 in the afternoon. This gave us about five hours to kill - and I did not want to spend them in the airport.
Excitedly and sporadically, I came up with the idea that we should spend our time in Downtown Orlando seeing fun urban-y sites. While looking for the public transportation in the airport (which was somewhat difficult to find), it started to rain. Once we had finally secured a seat on a bus we began our travels towards the heart of Orlando - at the mercy of our very crabby bus driver. We weren't quite sure which stop to get off on, but we figured it would be pretty hard to miss downtown Orlando.
After about twenty minutes of travel, we realized we were still in the middle of nowhere. We began to wonder, hoping that we were not on the wrong bus and riding to our doom. Nervously, we began to question our surroundings and look for the first coffee shop we saw to unload at where we could wait for my parents to arrive and rescue us. I began to regret my lack of planning.
Just as we saw a coffee shop, the bus driver pulled over to let someone on. Immediately and confidently (even though I wasn't confident at all, I just wanted Katie to think I was confident), I declared it was time for us to get off the bus. As I started to stand and move towards the door, the crabby bus lady started yelling at me. Alarmed, I quietly informed her that we were getting off the bus. She yelled at me again, this time because I didn't pull the cord to let her know we wanted to get off. So I sat back down. She then looked at me in the rearview mirror and told me to get off the bus. Katie quickly and timidly followed.
So, there we were, luggage and all, in a strange back part of Orlando in the rain (although it wasn't raining too hard at his point).
Not quite sure what to do, Katie suggested that we continue on the path the bus was taking, just to see if we could find anything (the previously sited coffee shop was way behind us now, because she drove while she was yelling at me). After walking uphill about a block we saw a beautiful sight: Downtown Orlando - five or six miles away. So on we walked, laughing at my stupidity for not getting directions.
But the fun does not stop there. With every regretful step we took, the rain began to fall harder and harder. After about 45 minutes of walking in the now tropical-storm-like rain, soaked to the bone, we stumbled upon a Panera.
Upon entering, we were met with many gazes and laughs as we were dripping from head to toe all over the floor. Explaining our appearance to two or three dining citizens, a guy in the food line in front of me, and two or three employees, I finally got some coffee and began to warm up. Still, the most exciting part of our adventure had yet to take place.
Sitting a couple tables over was a gray haired man in his late 50's/early 60's. He was one of the dining citizens that had inquired about our drenched state of existence. He would not stop staring at us. Somewhat awkwardly, I continued a broken conversation with him, hoping that he would mind his own business. Unfortunately I asked a seemingly harmless - yet very wrong - question.
"What do you do for a living?"
He rose from his table and joined us at ours. "I'm an artist," he replied. For the next half hour we heard all about his life experiences and artistic fame in Orlando. Right when we thought he was wrapping up he noticed that Katie had her laptop out and was connected to the internet. He then proceeded to go on Katie's computer and show us all his artwork.
We began "Ooo-ing and Aahh-ing" because there were some really beautiful paintings. I began to think that it wasn't as bad as I initially thought, and that maybe I had found some sort of artistic jewel. But then he took it a step further. He went into his hotmail email account to show us his most recent paintings. I don't know how else to say this, so I will just say it: they were exotic paintings of half-dressed women. There were about five of them. Even more strangely, he pointed out a specific painting for which he had used a model named Rebecca.
By this point in time, Katie and I were entirely creeped out. Between awkward glances and subtle hints that we were both feeling quite uncomfortable, I began to formulate a plan to get this man to leave. Thankfully, before I had to execute it, he left Panera on his own. He made us "promise" to keep in touch via email, and although we both smiled nodded our heads we secretly knew we would certainly not.
As good of a story as this is to tell, I'm somewhat embarrassed that it could have been entirely avoided had I spent five minutes on mapquest.com.
I am dictating this blog to Katie right now as we drive (it seems she - luckily :) - happens to be with me when I get lost). We are on our way back to Fargo from Enderlin with my mother - or we should be anyways. Actually, we are on our way back from the South Dakota border. Oops. I didn't know I was supposed to get off at the Kindred exit. Another two hours wasted because I was too lazy to look up directions. Don't worry though, we are going to try and get to Enderlin again on Thursday. I will look up directions this time, and my mom said she would too.
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