Anybody have a map?

My journey across Lincoln

I drive to calm down, de-stress, or just to blast music and pretend I’m in a coming-of-age indie film, obviously. Earlier this week was no exception; I was thriving, windows down, performative music blasting, driving around downtown. I had a self-proclaimed confidence that I knew exactly where I was going, like I had a GPS in my mind. I am the GPS, the GPS is me. I was assured that I could get back to school when the time came. And, eventually, the time came; I thought, No worries, I don’t need a map at all, I’ll be fine. How hard could it be? I can make it back. 

Spoiler alert…I could not.

It all started great. I was listening to my favorite song, heading back the way I had come. I had a self-assured smile on my face and a pep in my step, or wheel in this case. When all of a sudden, I realized I didn’t recognize a single thing outside my window. Did I pass that building on the way here? Surely I should just continue straight.

…Mistake number 1.

 I continued straight, waiting for any recognizable landmark, but it never came. Eventually, three or four miles later, I did what any reasonable person would do and tried to pull up a map on my phone.

 “1%”

It flashes on the screen as if mocking me. Now the panic sets in. I quickly tried to memorize the route before it dies, but I couldn’t even open the map before the screen went black. I could’ve sworn it flashed before it died, “Good luck, loser.” That’s fine, I have a charger.

Spoiler alert, I did not.

 As I reach for my charger, I remember someone “borrowing” it earlier that day, claiming something about forgetting their charger. Anger, panic, resentment, denial, bargaining…all emotions I was very familiar with in this moment.

So, no map, no phone, no charger. I did the only reasonable thing a girl can do in this situation. Stop and buy a charger, you ask? Of course not, that would be accepting defeat. I stopped at the nearest coffee shop and got a vanilla latte…to calm my nerves. If I were going to be lost forever, I might as well be happy while I do it.

As I sat in my car, staring out the window like I was in a music video, I realized I had wandered into the strangest part of town. Across the street, a man was selling scarves in 90-degree weather. A man stood in the street, loudly debating a traffic cone, something about the end of the world, I don’t recall. In any case, this was clearly not a path back to campus; it was the Twilight Zone. 

Eventually, after an hour of circling, crying, and bad radio music since my phone had died, I somehow spotted a street I recognized and miraculously turned the correct direction.

Moral of the story? Always charge your phone. Or at least invest in a paper map like it’s 1995.

By: Lillian Morris