On Wednesday I drove my friend Robbie to a doctor's appointment. He's quite a funny guy. There's never a lull in the conversation when I'm with him. As we were traveling, we decided to take the Toll Road. I always joke with Tom that with my PalPass, the Toll Road is free. What I mean, of course, is that I don't have to stop and hand out $1 bills; I can simply drive through the fast lane and it "clicks" off our account. And it isn't free.
As we were getting near our destination, Robbie mentioned that we could get off I-185 at the last exit and get to his doctor's office. But we both decided to go (the only way I've ever gone) until I-185 ended and get to his doctor's road soon thereafter. (I'll get back to this soon; you'll see why I went into this explanation.)
Robbie was as nervous as a crazed cat about this test with the doctor. I don't know the exact terminology for the test, but he had probes placed on his legs, then needles, to check the nerves in his legs. According to Robbie, he probably talked the ears off every doctor, nurse, technician, receptionist and janitor that he came into contact with. When Robbie is nervous, he gets diarrhea of the mouth. Come to think of it, Robbie talks so much anyway, who could tell if he is nervous or not? JUST KIDDING, Robbie. (or am I . . .?)
Anyway, about an hour later he was finished with the test and very glad to be heading home. As we were sitting in the car trying to take a left out of the doctor's parking lot, it became obvious (because we were in the late afternoon traffic) that it was gonna be virtually impossible to take a left. I asked Robbie if we could get back on the Toll Road by taking a right, instead. "Oh, yeah" Robbie said. "No problem." I'd never been on the road going in this direction, but Robbie had. Soon we were driving and looking for the Toll Road. Hmmmmmmm. Where is it? I asked if we could get on the Toll Road near the exit point that I mentioned in paragraph two. "Oh, sure", he said. Well, there is no entrance to the Toll Road at that point, but Robbie said he knew how to get us back on track. I believed him.
It soon became crystal clear that Robbie didn't know what he was talking about. We ended up at the Donaldson Center. For those of you not from this area, we were definitely not going toward home. At this point, Robbie and I became so giggly that I almost had an accident . . . and I don't mean a vehicular accident. I did a U-turn and still didn't have a clue where home was. I've lived in S. C. for over 30 years, but there's a ton about this area that I don't know . . . and quite frankly, I don't care to ever see some of the sights we saw! Finally, after turning this way and that, Robbie got excited and pointed saying, "This road will take us to Conestee." Was that supposed to make me feel better? Then he explained that the road would lead us to Mauldin. FINALLY, a name I was familiar with! It was close to home.
The funny thing was that as I was leaving home to get Robbie hours earlier, I had asked Tom if 1/4 tank of gas was enough to get to Grove Road and back. He said, in a smart alec way, "Well, yes." But by the time Robbie and I had driven all over Greenville County and back, my fuel light was on. No surprise to me.
So, if you ever take Robbie somewhere, be ready for:
- Conversation
- Laughter
- Tears (from laughing)
- Tissue (for wiping nose from laughing)
- Tylenol (for headache from laughing)
- Earplugs (to stop the conversation, laughter, tears, tissue-wiping & Tylenol-taking)
- Map (don't ever let Robbie give you directions)
When I returned home, I told Tom that Robbie and I had gotten lost. He looked at me like I had two heads. How in the world could I get lost going to a doctor's office that I'd been to so many times with my parents? My one-word answer: Robbie
Here are some more funny signs. Have a good laugh on me today!
Raise your hand if you want a sign like this. I do!
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