By: Blonde Two
We Blondes all have moments when we do something so silly that it borders on ridiculous. Come on Blondees and Blondettes, you know what I am talking about, you feel my pain! Well on Saturday, I had one of those moments – the embarrassing thing is that I had had exactly the same moment a few months before. They say that lightening doesn’t strike in the same place twice – that may be true, but Blondeness can strike at any time and usually does so when it is going to cause the most embarrassment.
Our Blonde mission was simple really – six youngsters, one car each – drive from Torbay to the Dartmoor Rescue centre at Ashburton. We have been there before, we got lost (and laughed at last time) and since then I have driven past a few times. Blonde One managed fine and arrived in plenty of time without any detours. Now, you might argue that getting lost is nothing to be ashamed of but the evidence of ridiculousness is stacked up against me, let us examine it;
1. I know exactly where the Dartmoor Rescue centre is and what it looks like.
2. I insisted on taking a different route to Blonde One – claiming that I knew best.
3. I left every single one of my many Devon/Dartmoor maps at home.
4. I have no idea how to use the sat nav on my phone.
5. I managed to swear in front of the kids (lovely kids, very kind about the whole affair).
6. I couldn’t even explain where I was to Blonde One when I phoned her.
7. She offered to send Dartmoor Rescue out to find me.
8. In the end, she had to come out and find me.
9. (This is the worst one) – I claim to be good at navigation and even hold a qualification.
10. I got a round of applause when I arrived.
In my favour, I will point out that I am not the most confident of drivers and was driving Mr B2s big 4×4 instead of my tiny sports car, I had students with me for the first (wouldn’t blame them if it was the last) time and … oh pants, I can’t think of another excuse.
There has been some pressure on both of us Blondes to get our minibus licenses. I have been repeatedly telling everyone that it would be a terrible idea for me to be put in charge of a bus full of youngsters. Maybe now they will believe me!
I can relate to that!
The other day in familiar territory I turned too early down a line which I realised straight away was an aborted mission but too narrow to turn around so I had to go to the end ( I knew this was going to be embarrassing ).
The lane came to a dead end which was 2 private houses answer in one of the gardens was a young lady snatching and I had to turn in the drive while she looked at me with a perplexed look on her face!
I didn’t stop to explain!
This also happens to me in peoples houses……but that’s another story:-!:-!
I am not the only completely hopeless person around then …
Substitute line for lane – and for answer – sunbathing for snatching oops! Told you I am Mr Clumsy!
The lengths some people will go to to get out of driving the minibus!!! We all know this was really part of a much bigger plan!!!
I strangely like getting lost – when I first passed my driving test I used to drive off into the night with my friends and deliberately get lost and try and find our way home again. I discovered some great parts of South Devon this way and learnt lots of cut throughs and “summer traffic avoidance routes”. Forgotten them all now though!!
I think my performance of “completely hopeless” was convincing enough! Must have been all of those red jackets …
I think I’ve been lost in every county in England except the South-eastern ones. But I’ve become an Olympic standard champion at the art of asking the way. I’ve also learned the really useful art of playing the goofy , lost female when caught trespassing on bird surveys – quite easy because it’s usually exactly what I am !
Asking the way is an art that is becoming lost. I try to run away from people who look like they are going to ask me because my mind always goes blank.