Road to nowhere needs map

Monday, November 16, 1998

Road to nowhere needs map

DIRECTION: When lost, make sure to keep your pens and mints
handy

So you close the door to your apartment because you’re off to a
party. You check to see if you remembered to bring your key – as
though at that point you could do anything about it; when the
door’s locked, the door’s locked. You turn the corner and you walk
down the hall with your friend Bruce.

He’s the important one because he has the directions in his
hand. These aren’t any ordinary directions – they’re written with
times next to the street names: drive 30 seconds on Veteran toward
Wilshire, turn right onto Rochester and drive 20 seconds west, and
so on.

So you get into the car and you say, "All right, where do we
start?"

"He says drive 30 seconds down Veteran."

You start the car up and drive down Veteran sitting in silence,
because you’re both counting to yourself: "One one-thousand, two
one-thousand, three one-thousand, four one-thousand and so on."

Time passes by and then Bruce says, "We should have turned by
now, but I don’t see the street."

"Come on, we still have a little bit of time." If I may state
the obvious: apparently you’re using different clocks.

You continue to drive, but still you’re not finding Rochester,
and disturbing thoughts slowly creep up in your mind: how do we
adjust the timing if there’s traffic? And what if we have to stop
at a light?

"So, what are we going to do?"

"Should we just start from the beginning again?"

"I guess."

So, the two of you go back to the beginning and this time you
count out loud: "One one-thousand, two one-thousand."

"This is really stupid," you say.

"Yeah, but how else are we going to do this?"

"Maybe we should look at the map."

Never believe someone else’s directions, because they don’t
actually think about how to get there; they just flip on autopilot
and drive home. You’re thinking, "At least this is just Bruce and
me, and no one else knows about how embarrassing this is."

You sit in silence for a few blocks, then Bruce says: "I got one
of those ‘Have you seen us?’ postcards in the mail. You know,
looking for lost children."

"Yeah."

"And, you know how they have those missing kids on the cards and
now they can age the children so you see what the children will
look like, even though they’ve been missing for three years?"

"Yeah."

"I wonder who does those computer-imaging deals."

"Why?" As though you need to ask.

"I’m thinking of growing a goatee."

"And … OK. Wait, now it’s coming to me. You want to ask them
to show you what you’ll look like with a goatee, don’t you?"

"Yep."

"You’re crazy."

"That’s for you to know and for me to find out. Just think, you
could go to them if you wanted to know what you’d look like with a
different hairstyle, so you wouldn’t have to guess. Plastic
surgeons could -"

"Hold up. If you grow a goatee, make sure you trim it, because
if you don’t it will look like a gerbil’s attacking your face."

"Don’t worry; I will."

The conversation stalls, which is just as well. Now you’re back
to silence, as Bruce digs down into his pocket and takes out some
Tic-Tacs and offers you one: "You want one?"

"No."

"You sure? They’re fresh and minty."

"No."

"Only one and a half calories per breath mint." Now he’s
starting to get a little annoying. So, you listen to the sounds of
silence again and hope that this map will see you through.

All of a sudden, Bruce opens up the glove compartment and starts
filing through everything: "Bruce, what are you doing?"

"I’m looking for a pen. I had a thought and I want to write it
down before I forget about it."

"Writers," you say. You’d think they would find something better
to do with themselves than try and capture their every little
thought. But you should at least account for why you don’t have any
pens, because after all you should have a pen in the glove
compartment of your car.

"Well, you know who has my last pen? My professor. I’m in one of
those seminar classes. So, I’m sitting next to the professor and
about two-thirds of the way into the class he says that he needs a
pen and paper, because he forgot to bring some with him. So he
says, ‘Does anyone have a pen?’

"I look around and reach into my bag – because I want to score
points with the prof – and I pick up a pen. I don’t want him to
think that I’m easy, so I pause for a few seconds and then I give
it to him. He uses it for the entire class. Then it’s time to leave
and guess what he does?

"He picks up the pen and the paper and walks out of the
room.

"How many pens does he think that I have? Does he think that I’m
not going to notice? I know pens – that pen he took was no cheap
pen."

"Exactly," Bruce says. "Why should you use anything less than
the best?"

"Nothing less than the best."

"Your professor is going straight to hell," Bruce says.

"Don’t swear."

"’Hell’ isn’t swearing."

"Yes, it is. ‘Hell’ and ‘damn’ are gateway swear words. Pretty
soon you’ll be using all kinds of interesting metaphors that you
could never get away with saying in say … the UCLA Daily Bruin
for example. For example, of course," you say.

Then comes one of those breaks in the conversation that’s
supposed to come every seven minutes, and Bruce starts to fidget
nervously.

Then Bruce says: "You know I have a confession to make."

"What is it?"

"You’re not making this easy …. You know when you sit in class
and you ask for a pen from the person sitting next to you?"

"Uh-huh."

"Well, when people give me a pen, I don’t ever intend to give it
back. In fact, I never have."

"So you have this hidden stash of pens in your bag."

"Well, uhh – "

"Well what? You do, don’t you? I should make you walk to the
party tonight. Empty out your pockets."

"What?"

"Empty out your pockets. Do it now."

Bruce empties out his pockets and you find that Bruce has been
pocketing little knickknacks from your apartment, the tire pressure
gauge and the pen from the glove compartment.

And, all you do is sit back and try and take a little inventory:
"OK, so now I’ve got a kleptomaniac friend, and we’re lost
somewhere in Los Angeles. What are we going to do?" And, all Bruce
can say is: "Want a Tic-Tac?"

It just goes to show that some people just know where they’re
going and others struggle to hold onto whatever they have.

But in the end, there’s nothing in your pockets that will get
you where you’re going, unless you have prepared ahead of time.

But at least your breath will smell nice.Spencer Hill

Hill is a fourth-year communication studies student. E-mail
comments to [email protected].

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