DRIVIN ON A PRAYER
That is indeed what it felt like yesterday when we took off to the Kessler’s Bar Mitzvah in New Jersey.
I don’t want to bore you with the details but let’s just say we got lost. We actually always get lost when get on anything but the LIE. I don’t get lost in California. But I have never driven anywhere in New Jersey when it didn’t take twice as long as it should – last night was no exception.
And of course what happened is what happens when all couples get in a car and don’t end up where they are supposed to, we started to bicker. You can’t call it a fight, it’s a marital car tussle and I find it hard to believe all couples don’t end up involved in them from time to time. It’s actually the only time we really argue.
He gets defensive because he screws up and men hate to screw up. I get passive aggressive because I told him where to turn off and he didn’t ‘t listen – luckily with us since we don’t fight about other things we don’t bring in and “If you only hadn’t made me buy that house….”
“Maybe if you had something like a job that would keep you busy all day you wouldn’t have time to find some many faults with me.” It never escalates to that. It sticks with the wife, me in this case saying…
“Honey, I think that might be the turn off ahead.”
“It says exit 50C’ We’re on 48.” He says emphatically.
“But we just passed 50, darling, and the directions say get off at 50C.”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“I just told you.”
“Well what does it say to do now?”
“What when you zip past your exit? Nothing pumpkin since the directions only take you as far as exit 50; they don’t mention anything about 68 which is what we are approaching.”
Then you get the scowl. You all know the scowl.
I of course started Tweeting. This did not help the situation as he was suffering from drivers screw up syndrome and blackberry with drawl symptoms.
I Tweeted, “My husband the genius is a dope at the wheel and we’re lost in New Jersey does anyone know their way around?”
My friend Michael Gross who BTW I helped learn to Tweet properly the day before at lunch – Tweeted back “GPS.”
Thank you Michael. Be careful who you teach to Tweet.
I love Michael and he is a wonderful writer, but telling me to get a GPS when I’m married to a man who doesn’t believe in them was not helpful.
I actually mentioned the GPS or our lack there of in our new car and Glenn said they didn’t work. I said the only reason the last one didn’t work was because the guy in the garage stole it.
“Exactly” he said, “They get stolen and then they don’t work.”
“Of course nothing works when it’s stolen but it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t have one. Everyone has one.”
“Including the guy who stole ours.”
This little to and fro got us to exit 75 . So not where we belonged.
“And they cost a thousand dollars.”
Where he came up with that figure I have no idea. You can download them for free but anyway, this was not the time to price compare.
“Maybe we should just figure out where we are going now.”
By then we were not only late for Ryan’s Bar Mitzvah I feared we might miss his wedding too.
Glenn announced he would “Turn around.”
“Good idea considering we were headed for Detroit. Where do you plan on turning, sweetie?”
“I don’t know but we’re turning now.”
Thank you Jeff Gordonwitz.
“But there is a wall between the two lanes are we going to sprout wings and fly over it, snookums?’
“Fine what do YOU suggest?”
All these conversations end up with the man asking the woman what she suggests when he has no tintention of following it whatsoever.
Well since you asked, I suggest darling, that we get off and go to a gas station and ask how to get back on I78?
“And where do you suggest we get off, honey?”
“I don’t know, angel, anywhere and just find a gas station.”
“There are no gas stations.”
“Really, in the entire state of New Jersey; home to twelve MILLION people, most of whom have cars, there are no gas stations: Then where do they buy their GAS?????”
“I do not think you are being helpful.”
“You didn’t think it was helpful when I told you to get in the right lane either, which is where we belonged to get off at exit 50 and now we’re in – WE DON’T KNOW WHERE WE ARE.”
You get the idea.
Eventually without finding one of New Jersey’s none existent gas stations, we did get turned around and he actually took my advice and asked the tollbooth guy where to go.
See men will ask someone they run into like a tollbooth guy but they will not voluntarily pull over and ask for directions. I just don’t get that.
The toll guy told us to turn around. DUH, and how to get there, that was helpful or I would be writing this from Detroit.
We arrived late, like the last ones, like they were halfway through the service. But we made it which felt like a miracle as it looked pretty dicey there for a spell.
It was a lovely party and Ryan Kessler turned into a man which means many things, including I imagine from this day forth whatever a woman tells him to do in a car he will do the opposite.
Everyone is an addict!
Everyone had a wonderful time. Between this and Sarah’s wedding Glenn has danced more than he has in ten years. Amazingly we made it home without getting lost.
But I’m still getting a GPS.