I met the woman who designed Google Maps!
I had a few errands to run, and I decided to daisy-chain them when I looked up all the locations and saw it would be easy to get from one to the next to the next. One of them was right off route 1. To get to the next you take route 1 to route 2. To get to the third it’s route 2 to route 3. And I knew how to get home from the third place because I’d been there before.
“Angelborough” as it turns out is actually a native American word that means “it’s ten miles away.” As in, the grocery store is ten miles east, Target is ten miles northeast, and the DMV was ten miles north. My Patient Husband’s job? 10 miles north and a little west. We’re located between two major highways, both of which are ten miles away.
When I can do more than one errand at a time, it makes sense to combine them. I looked up everything on Google Maps, and I didn’t even need their directions. So first I went to the cat shelter to donate Venus’s leftover food and some other items they had on their wish list.
Their address is 101 Rescue Road. I got on the main road that crosses Rescue Road, and I took it to Rescue Road, made the right as directed, and proceeded to look for 101.
The house numbers went like this: 56, 48, 199, 1…
Remember how I mentioned Satan used to be on the town planning board of Angelborough before that unfortunate throne-raising incident? Well, I now know he planned the adjacent town as well. I did a U-turn and went back up the block, but there was no 101. I wondered if maybe the road continued further down the main road, since in this part of the country they do things like that.
Sure enough, about two miles away, I found another one. Where the numbers topped out at 86.
Finally I found a tiny sign for “Old Rescue Road” and took that over some railroad tracks to find the animal shelter. Where, although I’d been told someone would be there until 5pm, it was locked up tight as a drum. I called, but no one answered. I’d been told I could leave donations on the front steps, so I did that. And then we went to the next stop on the trip.
I arrived where it said I should find a BJs, and it’s someone’s garage. There was a tiny office park, and nothing more. I called my Patient Husband at work and said, “Bring up Google Maps and tell me where this is.”
He said, “Am I your On-Star now?” He determined where there really ought to be a BJs. I got directions and hung up.
In all fairness to Google Maps, my Patient Husband directed me to retrace my steps and drive about two miles until I was exactly back where I’d started, only around the corner, and then continue driving. At this point, I gave up because he had directed me toward the third destination, so I just went there. (It was Michael’s, and I needed to spend a gift card. Ivy is now going to remove me from her blogroll because I bought Red Heart sock yarn. But I had no choice! I wanted to encourage them to sell sock yarns!)
At checkout, I asked for directions to BJs, since we were exactly where my Patient Husband said it should be. The cashier brought over someone else to explain to me where it was.
She said, “Go back out on route 982, and–”
I said, “Wait, isn’t that route 3?”
She said, “No, it’s route 982. Now take that a little bit down to the Home Stuph store, and then you’ll see a Flea Universe, and if you make a left you go down past Bull’s Eye, and you make a right and–”
After five years of driving as a volunteer for a caregiving organization, I know there are people who can give directions, and people who cannot. Guess which she was?
With a pleasant, “I’m never going to remember that,” I started to disengage, but she pulled out a little bit of receipt paper and began drawing me a map. She started in the upper right hand corner of the paper and then proceeded to draw the map UPWARD and to the RIGHT. She was actually drawing on the counter at one point. Every so often she would pause, blink, and her voice would break. Then she’d start again. I think she was having microseizures or something. I thanked her for the help, and we left.
Halfway to the car, I realized, I’d been in the presence of the woman who had designed Google Maps, the founder of our fun.
And with that, I decided to go home.