On the Perils of Being Directionally Challenged

I’ve not been doing a very good job of keeping up with this blog, sorry about that! So I figured I’d share a lovely little story about Maggie and maps.

About two weeks ago we (Jennie, Parker, Ashton, Wriley, and myself) were in Vienna. (I know, right?! Vienna.) I’m rather prone to getting myself lost, because I’m rather prone to just walk without really planning out where I’m going, and because I suffer from being directionally challenged. But, because I asked and was determined, and because for some reason Ash and Wriley were being particularly “whatever man, you do you” that day, I was allowed to use the map.

Now it’s hard enough for me to get us from Point A to Point B in Abilene, Texas, where we speak English. We were in Vienna, Austria, where they sprechen Deutsch. And whereas a street name in Abilene, Texas, is something like Lincoln Drive, a street name in Vienna, Austria is something like Mariahilferstrasse, which would on a map be shortened to something like Maria. Straße.

Thanks, Vienna.

So here’s what happened. I’ll add a map so y’all can kind of visualize what happened. Ash, Wriley, and I were all wanting to go to the Wiener Kriminalmuseum (Vienna Museum of Crime) (but that’s a whole other story). Parker and Jennie did not. So, we decided to split up, and reconvene at the Freud Museum at four o’clock. The three of us headed off to the Crime Museum, which happened to be rather close to the hotel that we were staying at. We got there, and the building looked eerily empty and old. Of course, I pushed the door open and we went inside anyway. After standing there for a few minutes, a little Austrian woman comes out and starts speaking to us in German, only realizing after asking what I assume were many questions that we spoke no German. So she cut herself off mid-sentence and said “Six Euros”. We each paid, and she gave us the brochures that tipped us off that this museum was going to be in 100% German. But we’d already paid, and were curious, so we went in anyway.

The museum was in 100% German.

As funny as this realization was (it was pretty hilarious – rather our luck) it was also kind of a bummer. The walls were covered in old case files and paintings and photographs from crime scenes and it was looked really interesting, but we couldn’t read a word of it. So, naturally, we started trying to come up with stories for the pictures. Being with two Criminal Justice majors, I didn’t get one word in edgewise the whole time. All the same, it was really fun getting to watch them geek out like they did! My biggest problem with the museum was the fact that the second room we walked into had a not so well preserved head. Ash and I weren’t too excited about that. There was only one other woman going through the museum, so we were able to talk as loud as we wanted to without fear of being obnoxious, which was nice for a change!

Eventually, we get out of the museum. Because we went through rather quickly, we had time to go to the Starbucks to get coffee mugs for the two of them, and the plan was to go from there to the Freud Museum. We should’ve had the perfect amount of time.

But then Maggie decided that she wanted to try to get us there. And they were like “Sho.”

And then Maggie promptly walked us across the river, past our hotel, and right back to the Wiener Kriminalmuseum. We got to the street and I just kind of dropped my head and said “Guys…I have a confession to make…I took us to the wrong place.” I rather expected to get a load of crap from the two of them, but instead they just started laughing. And then I started laughing, and then they both just hugged me and said that it was okay, that it was too priceless, and now we knew where we were actually supposed to be going. So we went back across the river and made our way to the Freud Museum. We got about halfway down the street it was on, and Jennie (who was sitting out front of the building) jumped up to wave us down, then turned away from us to try to wave Parker down, who had started walking down to the other end of the street to see if he could see us, because by this point we were twenty minutes late and hadn’t texted them (I’d assumed that if they were concerned Parker would’ve texted. Which he had. It just didn’t go through on mine and Ashton’s phones). We told them what had happened, and again it was just laughter. Though I did get more crap now that Ashton and Parker were there to fuel one another’s sense of humor.

So this is basically what we did: A to B, back to A, then to C.Image

Maggie: 0, Universe: 1

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