So last night was yet another venture into the otherworld known as Midnight Movie Premiere. That’s a story all its own.
We rode down with one group of friends to a movie theatre just over a half-hour away. We met up with another friend and decided to ride with her on the way back.
Poor Baylee! I think I kept intimidating her with my Back-Seat Driver impersonations: “Oh, Baylee, you’re a great driver, but please don’t tailgate.” (We were a good four car lengths behind any other vehicle.) “I hate driving in the fog, Baylee. I hate it!” (Visibility was at least a half mile or more, so we were fine.) After that, I did it to tease her just ‘cuz I could. “Baylee, you’re swerving.” “Baylee, look out.” “Baylee, do you want me to shut up now?”
Now, I’ve made this drive probably thousands of times over the last 20+ years. I went to University in that area. My brother used to live 3 miles away from the theatre. I can navigate these roads and the freeway without even thinking…
Unless I’ve been awake for more than 21 hours. Unless there’s a bit of fog and lot of conversation to distract me.
Get where I’m going with this? I navigated us about 20 minutes too far east. “It’s coming up. I know this road. We’re on the 210 East, so we’ll meet up with the 15 North any second now.” “Yup, any second now.” “Anyyy second noww…”
We realized we’d gone too far when we finally saw the sign proudly announcing we weren’t that far from Palm Springs. Uhm, yeah. I’ve navigated us wayyy too east. Time to backtrack.
Baylee good-naturedly made the U-turn and soon (soon is a relative term here, as we should have already been home by now) we found our way back to known territory heading north.
Baylee gave an audible sigh and said, “I’m so embarrassed.”
“Why?” I gasped. “You’re not the one who sent us so far off the beaten trek.”
“No, it’s not that,” she offered. “You’re fine. This has been a great drive. I love driving.”
She sighed again just as we merged with the 15 North.
“Every time I make the drive home, other people get to head to Ontario down the Hill. I have to follow the signs leading to Barstow.”