The art of getting lost 2.0

I get a bit confused with a GPS. Without it, though, I'm a complete mess.

I should disclaim this segment with a little factoid about driving in America. In Texas, we have these convenient little roads by the highway called "feeders" that "feed" you onto the highway. They are also known as access roads, frontage roads, and what-have-you; each region has their own name. That is, each region that HAS them in the first place.

For a person who has grown up driving with feeders that allow you to u-turn underneath highways when you go the wrong direction, not having feeders is...not easy. Having to drive on freeways that form clovers, however, is just an exercise in validating the 8th amendment's existence. Needless to say, freeways are not so well marked for your average non-Virginia/DC/Maryland-er.

Which is my explanation for how a 15 minute ride home turned into 2 hour debaucle depositing me in Accokeek, MD, where the first sign of civilization I saw was the B&D Tavern, which touts the coldest beer in the area (where there are no other bars).

It's okay, though, because inside this peopled oasis was a taxi driver who gave excellent, if somewhat patronizing directions (which I welcomed at this point), and a subsequent game of pool with him and his friend, Omar. Omar enjoys this place so much he drives 30 minutes out of his way to be there (he used to live in the area). Everyone there knew each other, probably better than their families waiting for them at home. There were 3 pristine pool tables and a room full of ye-olde computers with which to play things like poker and trivia with pixels the size of your fist. What else could you possibly ask for in a bar?

Sometimes, you just have to get really, really lost before you can find what you are looking for.