Left, Right and Roundabout
Sometimes I mix my left and right up, and I get directionally confused.
Years ago, when GPS was unknown, if you caught a cab, you had to direct the driver to your destination. With this backdrop, let me tell my story.
One Friday, my boyfriend promised to meet up after work. He was a handsome bloke – tall and muscular, like a footballer and I was excited. Dressing up to the nines, as much as workplace rules would allow, I caught a cab to get to office with my head full of him. As we neared the place, the driver turned to me for specifics.
“Uh, right please, “ I said waving my left hand dismissively and he promptly moved right.
“Sorry! Sorry! Left! Left!” I immediately corrected him and received a stare through the rear-view mirror.
At the next intersection I said, “left,” and to my horror, gestured with my opposite hand, being the direction that I had meant to give him.
I froze and blushed as the poor man, naturally obeying my directive, turned left.
“Oh God! I’m sorry,” I groaned. “I meant right…right.”
He screeched to a halt, turned around and shook his head, exclaiming:
“I don’t believe it!”
We had to go all around again now. When we reached my office, and I paid the tab he remarked, “you’re absolutely crazy.”
I blushed hard in embarrassment, but at that moment an idea came on.
“I no clue what you say.” My accent was deliberate and thick. “I don’ta know Eengleesh. I know how reach thees place…but to tell left-right? Vaar difficult.” And as I said that I gestured left, and then right, perfectly coordinating with my words.
He raised an eyebrow, and I knew he could tell I was bluffing. He drove away, laughing his head off!
© Cindy Pereira