Rhiannon’s aunt just moved to town and the title of Rhiannon’s-closest-living-relative has now been passed on. Earlier this week we went to visit – you know, do the whole welcome to the neighborhood type of thing. We didn’t really have a fruit basket or fresh baked muffins – but it was better than throwing eggs at her windows and speeding off into the night. We knew she was close to us and Rhiannon got her new address, so we punched it into Google Maps. I’ve been using that site for almost as long as it has been around, and time and time again it hasn’t let me down.
We beat you Google Maps. It said, “The address you suggested couldn’t be found, but could I very kindly suggest that perhaps you are an idiot and maybe you meant to look for this?” And we said the zip code was the same and the street was the same, so it must be just down the block from there. Perfect.
On the way, Rhiannon wanted to stop and exchange a book that was missing some info, so we called ahead as we were leaving the store to ask exactly how to get to our destination.
Turns out Google Maps was around 15 miles off track. So we went galavanting across southwest Denver, because – obviously – I am a guy and guys do not stop to ask directions. I had a general idea of where we were headed so I figured I would get close and then we call again and make it look like “We were just wondering what building you lived in” rather than “Help! I have no idea where we are and the bad man on the sidewalk is looking at me and Rhiannon says I don’t look very intimidating when I suck my thumb like this.” Because that would not be the guy way of doing things at all.
In the end, our drive should look something like this:
On that particular night, it looked a little more like this: (Note the point at which we gave up on streets and just started off-roading. This was tough to do considering some of those backyard fences are surprisingly thick.)
The salvation of the night: finding one of the best roadsigns I have ever seen. I think we should move there just so we can say, “Sure, come on over, go straight and then take a right onto Jackass Hill. You can’t miss it.”