Saturday

Saturday, her mother was in the passenger seat and her and her daughter sat in the back watching Grey's Anatomy.

"Do you know where you're going?" her mother asked. I've never been to Northfield before but I've been in the area, I had a map and mapquest directions so I said "Pretty much."

We got there in pretty good time. We hung around a bit. I scoffed up some free snacks that I'm certain weren't for friends or family and also walked off with a sign which Lady G said she wanted to steal.

My drinking habits came up. I stated that I wasn't the only one in the car that liked to drink. That didn't seem to matter much, so I just let them talk.

Her mother asked if I knew the way back.

"Yup."

"You just go back the way you came?"

"Yup."

"And you remember the way?"

"Yup."

"You don't ever get lost?" And there it was, the question that judges my character. There is never an exchange where a question doesn't come up where I'm not judged. I know she had been waiting the whole trip for me to make a wrong turn or miss an exit or drive passed a street I supposed to turn onto. I had only briefly looked at the directions once we were under way because I knew she would immediately mention something about me not knowing where I was. She the type of person who sees failure in anything that is incorrect; I see failure as a learning process.

"Oh, I get lost. It's just that I don't worry too much about it."

Her mother's a fast talker but she had nothing to say after that her daughter broke the silence by saying that "He always gets where he's going."

Her mom then read a book for the last hundred miles.