All of my weather apps were consistently wrong while I was in Manhattan. If my app said cloudy, it was raining. If my app said no rain in the morning, it was raining in the morning. If my app said light showers, sideways rain and flipped umbrellas were accompanied by flash flood warnings. My phone’s inability to synch with the New York weather was a sign. A sign that it is always raining, but also a sign that I am not moving to the rhythm of the big city.
It is no secret that I am navigationally impaired. I can’t find my way around anywhere. I get lost easily. When I get lost, I don’t stand still like I tell my children to do when they are lost. I panic and keep moving. It always, always, always ends poorly.
I turned on the battery burning map apps and tried valiantly to follow directions to New York destinations. It failed every time. Neither the blue dot nor the arrow could figure out where I was. I held my phone out in front of me, I spun in circles on the sidewalk, I acted completely ridiculous with zero attempts to blend and not draw attention to myself as the directionless moron that I am. The only thing that did was drain my battery rapidly as I got lost.
Someday, there will be a telethon for the directionally impaired. They’ll raise funds for ‘The Derek Zoolander Center for People Who Can’t Find Their Way Anywhere and Wanna Learn to Get From Here to There, Too.’ At the center, we’ll be microchipped and tracked 24/7. Every so often, a friendly voice will be heard in our earpiece implant.
“Hi, Cathy. You’re doing really great. Could you do me a favor and stop walking? Now, I need you to turn around 180 degrees and walk the direction you were coming from for a bit. Don’t worry. It’s going to be okay.”
Friends and relatives of the directionally impaired will cheerfully donate to the Derek Zoolander Center for People Who Can’t Find Their Way Anywhere, because they won’t be interrupted daily at work and school and their busy lives by someone saying, “I don’t know where I am. There’s a Starbucks to my right and a bank across the street. How do I get out of here?”