You heard the news today? O boy! About a lucky man who made the grade? Not! It was me! It is true. Yes, I asked for directions. I undermined my masculinity and asked directions. But I was desperate and against the clock.
Worse, I asked a woman. She was driving a car and I could not make out her features through the glare on her windscreen. Worse, she was accompanied by three other young women and a child.
She didn’t know the road I was looking for but it was in the area. A car was coming towards her. A car was coming behind her. I said “It’s okay, it’s okay”, but she insisted. She pulled in before taking out her phone to google the address.
I wanted to say “It’s okay, it’s okay, I can do that too on my phone.”
But it seemed rude and then when she, her three companions and the child had just pulled in to avoid a car coming towards them and a car coming behind them to help me out. So as she googled, and I waved to the two passing cars.
I could have sworn the two male drivers both looked at me aghast as though to say “He can’t seriously have asked that young wan for directions?”. But I had.
Such a day. Woke up, fell out of bed/Dragged a comb across my head
Found my way downstairs and drank a cup/And looking up, I noticed I was late/ Found my coat and grabbed my hat/Made the bus in seconds flat.
She told me where to go. Or, rather, where I would find the house I was looking for. I took a wrong turn and then had to ask a young lad. This was becoming easier.
I arrived at the house and rang and rang its two doorbells, but there was no response. I phoned to find it was a different No 23, at Park not Close. A son of the house was sent to guide me.
Lost, I was found, and on the button too, time wise. Oh boy!
Moral of the story: dear fellow fellows, asking for directions is not so difficult, really. Like taking a dip on a cold day, the first plunge is the worst.
Directions, from Latin directionem, "course pursued by a moving object".
inaword@irishtimes.com
