Member-only story
Going Places
How getting there isn’t always so easy
How many times have you someone say, “why do men never ask for directions?”
A few years ago there was a story in the national news about a man who set out in the south of England to drive twenty miles (thirty-two kilometers in real measurements) but ended up many hours later in Scotland. It was a true story. Although he was completely lost he kept driving in the vain hope that somehow everything would work out in the end. When asked why he didn’t stop and request directions from someone, the man said, “Well, I thought I’d find my way eventually.”
I’m guilty of being a man and I rarely ask for directions either. But in my case there’s a rational reason for this reluctance to seek assistance.
No, really, I mean it: a rational reason. Stop laughing in the back and pay attention because I’m going to explain why.
A long, long time ago when I was slightly less ancient (just after they invented the concept of latitude and longitude) I used to ask people for directions. I’d say something like, “Excuse me, how do I get to Ship Street from here?”
The person I was asking would reply along the lines of, “Oh, that’s easy! Keep going until you see what used to be the Post Office building and then take the next left. You can’t miss it!”
