I Have a Bad Sense of Direction
But my dad has an even worse sense of direction, which is probably where I get it from. So I'm down in Florida visiting my dad for Thanksgiving, and we decide to go see the new Star Wars Galaxy's Edge park at Disney. We set the GPS (even though it's 20 minutes away, and it's not the first time he's been there. He's an annual passholder). Basically, here's the conversation:
Me: Okay, the sign says Hollywood Studios is the center lane.
Dad: Well, the GPS says to turn right, so I'm going to trust it.
Me: But it's Disney. Why would they make the signs confusing?
Dad: Well, we'll just see where this goes.
*makes the turn, into what is very obviously not a theme park, and is some kind of industrial, employee-only back entrance*
Me: I'm pretty sure this isn't it.
Dad: Well, why would the GPS take us here then?
(Pause)
Dad: You know what, I think you're right. There's no way all the buses would fit through here.
Me: Yeah, and no huge sign that says the name of the park, or the toll booth, or an army of people directing traffic through the huge parking lot.
Dad: Yeah, okay, the GPS lied to me.
*I look closer at the GPS*
Me: You set it to the employee entrance! That's why we're here!
Dad: Why would it even have that option? And why is it the first one in the list?
We did eventually make it to the park, but the security guard was not really amused by the tourists who can't read the highway signs.
Me: Okay, the sign says Hollywood Studios is the center lane.
Dad: Well, the GPS says to turn right, so I'm going to trust it.
Me: But it's Disney. Why would they make the signs confusing?
Dad: Well, we'll just see where this goes.
*makes the turn, into what is very obviously not a theme park, and is some kind of industrial, employee-only back entrance*
Me: I'm pretty sure this isn't it.
Dad: Well, why would the GPS take us here then?
(Pause)
Dad: You know what, I think you're right. There's no way all the buses would fit through here.
Me: Yeah, and no huge sign that says the name of the park, or the toll booth, or an army of people directing traffic through the huge parking lot.
Dad: Yeah, okay, the GPS lied to me.
*I look closer at the GPS*
Me: You set it to the employee entrance! That's why we're here!
Dad: Why would it even have that option? And why is it the first one in the list?
We did eventually make it to the park, but the security guard was not really amused by the tourists who can't read the highway signs.
