Bawling Alley

Tonight I learned a valuable lesson: My eyeglasses should never leave my nose.

It was getting dark and I was together with somebody in a car. He offered me a ride home, provided that I give him directions. It was his first time (I assume) to travel to Bulacan using his own car. It was also my first time to give directions to somebody who had never been to Bulacan. You could expect that I'd be too reckless and forget to mention the places he should take a turn at, and that he'd be too nervous because he might be afraid of getting lost. Unfortunately, it was raining a bit hard, add that to the fact that it was already dark and I had left my glasses at home. I didn't think a small thing like nearsighted-ness would matter.

Apparently it would. I rely heavily on my pictographic memory, which really wouldn't be of any use to me since it was already dark - my vision was blurry.

Strike one. Three lanes. I kept on saying that there was only one bridge that was elevated, and my companion kept on insisting that there were two. Luckily the road was clear, and I was able to point out the right way before the forks. Not to say he didn't shout at me or made panicky comments - implying that I wasn't properly giving him directions. I let it pass, and told him to follow the jeepneys.

Strike two. Everything was going well until the cloverleaf. It was dark and there were lots of vehicles. In a miscalculation, I told him that we were supposed to take a right. And we missed our turn, causing us to drive onwards until the closest U-turn slot. I earned a few irritated words from him again - which I deserved, because I was paying scant attention to where we were.

Strike three. My bad. After the U-turn slot, he asked me what we should do. I told him I couldn't read the signs and that I'd appreciate it if he'd read them for me. He was panicking a bit. I was a bit confused and contradicted myself, causing us to pass the nearest way to the expressway. This time, it was more than irritated words. His tone raised again, and was about to rant - until I retorted with a sarcastic apology and let out a horrible excuse that I couldn't see the road.

I wanted to get out of the car right then and there. Even if I cried, it wouldn't really matter. Maybe allowing him to take me home was a bad idea. Eventually we silently made it to the expressway, neither of us talking unless necessary. And by "necessary" it went like this:

Him: "Anna?"
Me: "Meycauayan."

We passed the tollgate that way. While on the road, it suddenly occurred to me that, a few minutes ago, I should have made him drop me off a a nearby jeepney terminal - where I could ride a jeepney that would go straight into our subdivision - saves me the hassle, and it saves him the time. I also thought that if I even try to help him make his way through my town, I might make another mistake or two, since it's already too dark and the roads aren't exactly well-lit. Another mistake would probably turn into another nasty argument, and I was already hurt with the previous words he had let out, as if I was to blame for all the improper coaching and missed turns.

You know what, maybe I was to blame. But come to think of it, we were both at fault for being a bit insensitive. The only leverage I had against him was that I couldn't see well without my glasses. But still, I don't want somebody offering to give me a ride home and then berate me for making mistakes at giving instructions. As soon as we passed the Exit, I told him to pull over and drop me.

Screw your car. I can commute on my own.