{directional.moron.part.two}

So, it's clear that I can be a directional moron all by myself. I was headed to a sweet friend's house this afternoon, and she explained that once I got my pass at the gate (you see, there are LOTS of "plantations" around here that require a pass to enter the neighborhood) there would be super simple directions to follow. Right. For most people. Enter directional moron.

I stop at the gate and flash my most confident smile as the guard explains how to get to my friend's house. Easy, easy, he says. In fact, he says, there is someone right ahead of me that is also going to that same house. My prayers have been answered, I think! I can just follow this blessed soul right to the house. I smile happily as I put my car in drive and follow the car in front of me. It's clear within a few minutes that neither of us know where we're going. She pulls over (I knew who she was) and says, "What did we do wrong?" Of course, I have no clue. Then she says, "I'm following YOU." Oh, sweet soul. Do you know what you just said? YOU are going to follow ME? Not good. Not good at all. So, I flash my most confident smile and off we go, attempting to follow the directions again . . . like there's some hidden road we missed the first three times. Finally, I pull over and brilliantly say, "I'm going back to the guard at the gate. He'll help us, right?"

Now, at this point, if I had any pride, I must throw it out my car window. I pull back up to the guard gate and flash my most confident smile. I say, "Clearly I must have missed my turn. Would you explain this to me one more time?" As he tries really, really hard not to laugh, he says, "You see that sign right up there?" Yes, of course I see that sign. "That's where you turn, ma'am." Oh my goodness. I feel like the biggest moron ever. I could have thrown a rock from the guard gate to the turn I was supposed to make. Then, he says, "I have a security guard waiting to escort you to her house." I follow the security guard to my friend's house. Delaney could have gotten there on her bike. I almost thought the security guard was going to wait for me to come back out so he could personally escort the directional moron (a.k.a. ME) out of the plantation. Embarassment. Humility. Want-to-kick-myself.

Thankfully, I made it out just fine. The guards are STILL laughing as I leave the gate. Lovely.