I have discovered the bane of my existence. I came across them last night, those most appalling, confusing, dangerous things: one-way streets.
I recently got my driver's license, so I've been enjoying scooting along the highways and byways at shocking speeds (like... 45... *gasp*); and I've been going very exciting places, such as Safeway and the Library. So far, there haven't been that many scares. The worst was probably that time that I thought a two-way stop was a four-way stop when, in fact, it wasn't. I started meandering across the intersection and then looked over and noticed the big truck that was still coming.
"Not stopping.... not... NOT STOPPING!!???" the Optimist inside my head screamed, frantically stepping on the gas.
The Pessimist glared at her, "Are you trying to get us killed? What is wrong with you, you've only just got your license and you go and do something stupid like that?"
"I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking," mumbled the Optimist, face flushed with shame.
"Obviously. That's usually your problem, isn't it?" the Pessimist sneered.
The Optimist was about to come up with a stinging retort when she suddenly remembered that she is, on the whole, incapable of doing so. She sat there with her mouth half open for a moment, made a noise like "um", and then turned up the radio, praying a quiet prayer of thanks that she had not been flattened by the semi.
Anyways, that whole ordeal was completely forgotten last night when I discovered one-way streets.
I had gone to meet some friends at a local restaurant located in the more city-ish part of my city. Getting there was a piece of cake.
"Look at us go!" squealed the Optimist, "I'm getting so much better at driving!"
The problem started when I left said restaurant and headed for home... out of a different driveway. I pulled out onto the street and then realized that it wasn't the right one.
"No problem," said the Optimist, flipping on the turn signal to head back towards the street she wanted.
But then, as I pulled up to the next light and prepared to turn right, it happened. A sign loomed above me:
it boldly proclaimed.
"But...but... I have to go that way, not this way!" the Optimist's eyes were wide as she obeyed the sign.
The Pessmist stretched lazily in the seat beside her, "Just find a street and turn around."
But that didn't work... and neither did the next... or the next.. or the next.
The Optimist said, "What do I do?"
And, for once, the Pessimist had no response.
"Maybe I'll try to find a street I recognize..." said the Optimist after a moment.
Long story short (-er than I could have made it), none of the streets worked. I ended up in a pretty sketch neighborhood. I was sitting at a light, watching a very creepy man walk past (no joke, a trick of the light made it so that I couldn't see his face... like he was wearing a mask or something), when I realized it was time to call in reinforcements.
"Hi, Mom," I said, though the Optimist in my head was really saying, "Mommy help!!! I'm lost and I'm going to get axe-murdered by a man whose face I can't see in a part of town I don't know!"
She, like so many times before, sacrificed quality sleep time in order to help me out of a very pathetic problem. I do love that lady.
So, I survived, but just barely, you know, just barely.