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Asking for directions At 17 years old I had never driven any further than Charlotte, only 30 miles from where we lived. A good friend of mine had moved to Florida, and I wanted to see her. I did not know how to read a map, so I decided to stop at a service station and ask the attendant for help. Did he ever! He marked the map for me. I did not know any better, so I took off. I drove and drove, and it was starting to get dark. I stopped at another service station to see how much farther I had to go. The man told me I was in Johnson City, Tenn. He told me I had to go back. I had been driving for almost five hours in the wrong direction. He told me the guy that had fixed my map up for me had played a dirty joke on me. He had sent me the wrong way as a joke. I did not find it a bit funny. I did not have any extra money to get a place to sleep for the night, and I was so sleepy. The service station owner was real nice. He told me to pull my car into one of the bays, and he locked me in so I could have a safe place to sleep for the night. The next morning he fixed me up a new map and even brought me breakfast. Then I was on my way to Florida. I actually made it there this time. Debra
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