Around the Block

It starts out innocent enough. “I need to work and do some errands. Want to go for a drive?”

“Sure, where do you want to go?”

“Let’s drop off some stuff and do some shopping.”

“Okay, I’m ready,” she says

We hop in the car and she says, “Oh, wait.”

So I wait.

“Okay, I’m ready,” she tells me. “Oh, we’re home.”

“I know we’re home. We haven’t left yet.”

I start the car and pull out of the drive.

“Turn left,” she says.

So I do.

“Turn right,” and I do again.

“We’re almost there.”

“I know,” I say.

“We’re here.”

“Yep, I know that, too.”

“You missed it.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you missed it,”

“I did not miss it,” I say. “It’s up here a couple houses.”

“Go around the block.”

“I don’t want to go around the block. I’m here.”

“Go around the block. Try again.”

“I’m not going around the block!” I snap. Instead, I get out of the car. I need the break and I think she does, too.

A few minutes later, I return and pull away.

“Go around the block.”

“I am not going around the block! Stop telling me to go around the block.”

“Turn right here.”

I make the turn onto a busy multi-lane road.

“Turn left at the next corner.”

“Turn left?”

“Turn left here.”

“I can’t turn here! It’s a six lane road, and I am in the far right lane. I’ll go around.”

“You missed the turn.”

“I know I missed the turn,” I say. “How do I get back there?”

“Go around the block.”

“Alright, fine. I’ll go around the block.” I navigate to where I should have made the turn and go through the intersection.

“Turn right here.”

I do so.

“We’re almost there,” she says.


“We’re here.”

I look around, “No, we’re not. We passed it.”

“Turn left.”

“I can’t turn left, I have to go back.” I turn around.

“Do a U-turn.”

“I already did the U-turn. Now shut up,” I snap. She’s getting on my nerves and I get out of the
car for another break. This one takes longer, but I eventually return and pull away.

“Do a U-turn.”

“I already did the U-turn. Pay attention, damn it.”

“Turn right.”

I do.

“Go three miles and make a left.”

Peace reigns for three miles.

“Turn left.”

And peace is gone.

“We’re here,” she says.

“Yes, we are. I’ll be right back.” I do my errand and return.

“Make a U-turn.”

“I can’t there’s a cop up there.”

“Make a U-turn.”

“I am not going to make a U-turn damn it, now shut up.”

“Go around the block.”

“Okay. I’m going around the block.”

“Turn left.”

“I can’t, it’s one way, going the other way.”

“You missed it.”

“I told you, I can’t turn that way. Now tell me which way to go.”

“Go around the block.”

“Oh, my God!” I yell, wondering why I suggested the drive.

I go around the block and notice the police car behind me.

“Oh, crap the cop’s following me.”

“Turn right.”

“I can’t,” I say “That’s a one way, too.”

“You missed it,” she says.

“I did not miss it!” I argue. “It’s one way, going the wrong way!”

“Go around the block.” I go around the block. The officer does as well.

“Turn right.”

“That is the same freaking street as before! I can’t turn that way, damn it! Now shut up.”

“You missed it.”

“Shut up!”

“Turn right.”

“I don’t want to go right. I want to go that way,” I say, going straight.

“You missed it again, turn right.”

“I’m not turning right,” I say, gritting my teeth.

“Turn right.”

“Shut the hell up! I am not turning right,”

“Turn right.”


I jump and glance at the rear view. Flashing lights.

“Great, now you’ve gotten me pulled over.”

“Turn right.”

“Shut up, already!” I say. “Let me handle this.” I roll down my window. “Is there a problem officer?”

The officer, looking around the inside of my car, says, “Ma’am, you went around that block twice, then your blinker was on to make a turn going the wrong way, but you went straight,” he cocks his head. “Are you lost?”

“Oh, no. I know where I’m going. I just don’t know which way I’m going.”

The officer cocks his head the other way. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You seem agitated and it looked like you were yelling at someone.”

“It’s okay, I do it all the time.”

“You yell at yourself?”

Blushing I say. “No, officer that would be odd.”

“But you were yelling?”

I nod.

“Ma’am have you been drinking?”

“No, sir.”
He doesn’t believe me. I have to get out and do tricks. Eventually, he hands me my driver’s license and with a look of concern, says, “You can go. Be careful pulling out.”

I get back in my car.

She says, “Turn right.”

“Oh, Shut up!” I say. “It’s your fault I got pulled over!”

I forgot the window was still open and the officer startles me as I’m putting on my seat belt.



“You need to get out of the car.”

“But, you just told me I could leave.”

He opens my door, “And I changed my mind. Are you on drugs?”

“Oh, no, sir.”

“Should you be?”

I look at him, thinking about her. “Well, now that you mention it, drugs might help.”

He nods, “You come with me and we’ll get you some good drugs.”

I can barely hear her in my car as he opens the back door of his car for me. “Turn right,” she says.

I look at the officer. “She’s always saying that.”

He nods, “We’ll get you all fixed up so you don’t hear her anymore.”

He climbs in the front seat and I hear him ask, “How do I get to the hospital from here?”

“Go around the block,” she says from the front seat.