Traveling with HansMan and three Boxers can be somewhat, u-m-m-m-m, how shall I say, STRESSFUL ?
Most of the miles are quite enjoyable, but there are those miles, such as when I act as navigator and he acts as driver, that become almost unbearable.
Like the miles when we are looking for a La Quinta in Slidell, Louisiana. At night. (That's supposed to be next door to Sam's Club.)
Part of the problem is with me. (I know that statement surprises you.) I have no, none, not any visual-spatial intelligence. When using a GPS gadget, I don't use the map, I use the "LIST."
The rest of the problem is with HansMan. He doesn't pay any attention to signs along the way, and for the most part, he doesn't pay any attention to me.
So, when we passed Exit 50 for the La Quinta, well, that was BOTH our faults. We were so absorbed in listening to the "Steve Jobs" story blaring through our speakers, neither of us noticed.
That blunder took us a few miles down the road until we noticed we were east of the 'red flag' on the GPS map. At that point, I turned up the volume on the "audible" GPS, and the lady in the box was squawking, "recalculating."
After speaking with Pam, the desk clerk at La Quinta, she advised us to program in the address for Sam's Club. This is because the motel had just opened, and its address on Holiday Road wouldn't be recognized by the GPS. She further noted that if we typed in La Quinta on the GPS, a flag would pop up in a residential area that was "Holiday Drive" So, that if we typed in Sam's Club address, we would end up at the motel, as it was next door.
I explained this to HansMan as we backtracked to Exit 50 off the Interstate. Well, at least I TRIED to explain it to him.
As we took the exit and looped around to the south, the lady in the GPS said very plainly, "Destination is on the RIGHT !"
I very plainly said, "Turn right."
He very plainly asked, "Why ?"
Me: Because the motel is over there. (It was a bit off the main road, nestled out of sight, on an access road called Holiday.)
Him: No, you typed in the address for Sam's in the GPS.
Me: I know, but La Quinta is next door to Sam's.
Him: Did you SEE Sam's ? (As he kept driving.)
Me: No, but I saw a Walmart sign.
Lady in Box: Recalculating. Recalculating. Do a U-Turn.
After several "exchanges," I realized it was going to do no good to tell him one more time, he was headed in the wrong direction. That the La Quinta was, 'back there.'
This is where he took over the job of navigator and programmed La Quinta into his iPhone and proceeded to show me the flag on Holiday Drive and also the location of another La Quinta, which was probably our motel.
This is where I stopped talking. For a few minutes.
We drove for about ten minutes in the opposite direction of where our cozy hotel room was waiting for us. Then we drove about five more minutes before he pulled into the entrance of a La Quinta.
Him: Where's the confirmation number for the hotel ?
I handed him my phone with the number and he marched into the motel lobby.
About three minutes later, he marched back to the van, and proclaimed, "Wrong La Quinta."
He looked at his iPhone again, pointed to the other red flag on Holiday Drive and said, "This is where our motel is."
I very nicely said, "Our motel is not on the GPS yet because it's new. There is a Holiday Drive and Holiday Road. That red flag is in a residential area."
Him: How do YOU know ?
Me: Because Pam, the desk clerk at the La Quinta where we have our reservation, told me. And, I told you that about thirty minutes ago. She said to program in Sam's address and we would end up there.
Him: Did you SEE a Sam's ?
Me: No, but you were driving so fast, I didn't have a chance. There were a lot of business along that access road. I did see the sign for Walmart and that usually means a Sam's is close by. Does that count ?
Him: Snort
He continued driving in the opposite direction for almost ten more minutes before he stopped, dead center in the middle of the road, and said, "We're here."
Me: We're where ?
Him: This is the address on Holiday Drive that the GPS flagged as La Quinta.
We were sitting in front of a nicely decorated home in the middle of a residential area, just as Pam had said would happen if we followed the directions on our GPS.
By now, the dogs were up and letting us know they needed a pit stop. I pointed this out to him.
He proclaimed, "I'm not stopping."
I once again programmed Sam's address into the talking-GPS, and the lady in the box started squawking directions which took us in the direction from whence we came.
June Bug started making that funny sound which means, you better stop now !
He pulled into a C-Store, I opened the door, and June Bug barely made it out of the van. While I proceeded to walk the other two dogs, he once again called Pam at La Quinta.
The conversation was pretty much like the first one, but for some reason, HansMan just couldn't accept the fact that the La Quinta was next door to Sam's.
Once I loaded all the dogs back into the van, we started our search again.
The audible GPS was directing us to head straight west, so why were we in the left turn lane, headed to New Orleans ?
By the way, he's still on the phone with Pam and she heard me yell, "Don't turn here !"
He was able to pull out of that lane and continue west as the dogs were flung from their seats and most of the contents of the van shifted to the right.
As we continued on this road, the same road we were on thirty-five minutes earlier, I proclaimed, "Look, Big Ben . . . Parliament." (If you've not watched the Chevy Chase Vacation movies, this will make no sense to you.)
Once again, the lady in the box, announced, "Destination on LEFT."
But because it was a new development, there were many one-way access roads and by the time he realized where he needed to turn, we had passed it and were headed back to the Interstate. The one we had been on about forty minutes ago.
So, we went under it and made a left turn from the wrong lane. The guy in the lane next to us used his horn and sign language to let us know.
All this time, the lady in the box is still squawking, "Recalculating."
We made another left turn into a Starbucks, which was thankfully closed as we exited through its drive-in window lane, going the wrong way.
We went under the Interstate. The one we had been on about forty-five minutes ago.
The lady in the box is now announcing, as she had earlier, "Destination is on the RIGHT."
Much to my surprise, HansMan followed her directions, and made a right-turn.
We meandered along this access road and much to his surprise, arrived at our destination, The La Quinta almost an hour later.
He never did see the Sam's and will probably to this day, never admit that our motel was next door to it.
My only regret is that on our goose-chase, we didn't pull into one of those "Daiquiris-To-Go" places. I understand they are quite potent, and a little rum might have helped.
Moral to this Story: (You create your own.)
