I get asked for directions a lot. I don't know why I give off a GPS vibe. Whenever I am working in front of our house or cleaning up the front yard---I always get asked for driving directions. And I do not have the greatest sense of direction at all.
I still get lost driving in Flemington. I was not sure which side of my family this came from. I always thought it was from my dad's side.
This evening, I was attending an improv workshop with the Magnet Theater in New York City, and I arrived a bit early. I stopped off to have a hot dog at one of those Papaya Juice places [two hot dogs and a drink for 4 bucks], and from the time I started my first hot dog, until the time I finished, I had three people ask me for directions.
The first was a woman with luggage asking the way to Penn Station ["Three blocks south of here"], I pointed.
Next, was a man dressed very well with an accent ["French? Italian?"], asking me which way was the west side. Finally, as I popped the last bit of hot dog in myn mouth, a couple asked me how to get to Madison Sqaure Garden. I wanted to say, "Practice, practice, practice," but I did not.
I still get lost in New Jersey, though.