Getting Lost—Sometimes the Only Way
to Get Where You're Going

It's no wonder men don't like to ask for directions. They're just too complicated to understand.

There's almost nothing worse than when you're late for an important meeting and you keep driving around in circles, trying to decipher the directions from a crumpled piece of paper that you can no longer read. Then, you have to throw yourself at the mercy of the world—always a huge liability—and ask for directions.

It's embarrassing to stop a total stranger in the street and admit you have no idea where you're going. It's even worse when that stranger gives you a long set of directions you can't understand: “Oh, sure I know where it is. Just go two blocks, make a right at the intersection, go half way down the street, make a U-turn,” etc., he says.

I may have no idea what the person is saying, but I don't want to look like an idiot, so I nod my head and say, “I understand.”

Then, I go off in search of directions from someone else. If I'm with a friend, half the time, I'll just sit there in a Zen-like trance in the driver's seat during the onslaught of directions. Then I'll say to my friend, “Did you get that?” the answer to which is, of course, “no.”

When I was a kid, riding in the car with my family, lost on cross country trip vacations, I never understood why asking directions were such a trauma for my dad. Now, that he's gotten older, he's become more philosophical about the whole thing. My dad's philosophy is: “If you make just one wrong turn, you're hopelessly lost. But if you make a wrong turn the second time and it's just the right wrong turn, there's a good chance you'll somehow miraculously get back on track.”

When it comes to asking for directions, most people, no matter how little they know, will try to direct you anyway. That's because they like to feel important.

It really bugs me when I know for sure that the person I've asked for help has no idea what he's talking about. I always want to interrupt and say, “It's OK, I know you don't know what you're talking about. I'll just go ask someone else.”

But, once you've stopped one person, you're committed for the next 30 seconds, or for however long it takes that person to run out of steam. It's like going on a blind date with your cousin's best friend. You can't just get up after five minutes and say, “I have absolutely no interest in you.”

When I find someone who does know what they're talking about, it's always a relief. I'll stand there beside them writing down a comprehensive set of directions. Then, that person will look at me with an absolutely straight face and say, “Of course, if you want to go other way, you can always go…” and then he'll give me a completely different set of directions.

I want to shake that person and scream, “What are you doing?! Are you trying to confuse me completely? How can you tell me there's more than one right way to go?”

The worst case scenario, though, is running into that one in a million, diabolical person who purposely gives you the wrong directions. When you end up in the middle of nowhere, you want to go back and throttle that evil-doer. But by then, you've become so lost, that you not only don't know where you're going, but you also have no idea how to get back.

(Readers can e-mail Lisa at lisal@thegrid.net.)