Maryland Highways and PB&J
I drive a lot. Fifty minutes to work. Thirty minutes to the gym. Thirty minutes to institute. Twenty minutes to church. Thirty-five minutes to hang out with people from the stake. I drive a lot.
Saturday night was no exception.
I became unengaged about six weeks ago, and since then I have been trying my best to be a productive Young Single Adult by dating. It is much easier now than before because there are quite a few more people back from school for the summer. On Saturday evening, I went on a third date with one, Karin Lund.
I planned on picking her up from her home, driving to Baltimore, eating at the Hard Rock Cafe, walking around the Inner Harbor, and then dropping her off at home. I began the chain of events.
I left my house just after 8:00, turned right onto 140, a slight right on 795, another right on 695, a hard right onto 70, left exit on 29, a quick tour on 100, a few small residential streets later, and I arrive at her house around 8:35.
After introducing myself to her five uncles who were visiting, we left and went on our way. I retraced the small residential streets, merged onto 100 again, and took 95 toward Baltimore. As we drove and told funny stories, I realized 95 was a goofy highway. (You see, when leaving Baltimore to go North, you need to take 95 South). I anticipated taking 95 and jumping onto 395 which drops us off in the middle of the city. I realized that I needed to be heading south on 95 towards DC to get to Baltimore to get on 395. So we flipped around and headed south.
Unfortunately, I got my 95s confused. From my house, in order to get to Baltimore, you take 140 to 795 to 695 to 395. In order to get to DC, you take 140 to 795 to 695 to 95 to 495. Had I really wanted to go to Baltimore from Karin's house, I needed to take 100 to 95 to 695 to 395, but it was too late to flip around again after my epiphany.
Knowing that Karin enjoyed a good sandwich, I changed our plans to go to Olney (where I work) and eat at a nice Mom and Pop sandwich shop called BJ Pumpernickel's. We continued south on 95, exited on 495, and hit 97 north. I also forgot how far south on 97 we were and we hit about four miles of lights. I thought 495 was much closer to 185 where all of the lights stop. And so we drove.
Finally, we found the 97 and 108 crossroads where I work at a Verizon Store. I drove by my work so she could see my little cage, then we headed to the sandwich shop. It was 10:02 when we arrived, it closed at 10:00. All we could do was laugh.
There was a Shopper's Food Warehouse in the same complex, we went inside and bought a loaf of bread, some peanut butter, and some grape jelly. After a fruitless search for flashlights, we went to the 24-hour CVS and purchased two glowsticks, a blue one and a red one.
Our new plan was to eat our homemade sandwiches at a park under a pavilion close to her house. We headed east on 108 for twenty-five mintues and retraced the same small residential roads, and found the park. To our dismay, it was occupied by a bunch of young hoodlums. With a spark of genius, Karin suggested we eat the sandwiches at a picnic table in front of Safeway around the intersection of 103, 100, and 29.
We spread out the plastic grocery bags for a table cloth, spread the peanut butter and jelly, and laughed.
I dropped her off two minutes past her midnight curfew (some things aren't too different from BYU-Idaho). As I drove away she came outside running and telling me to come back inside. Her dad (who is in the Stake Presidency) wanted me to come in and color a picture for Missie's birthday, Karin's little sister. I sat down at the table and started coloring, and every time I picked up a new marker I asked what color it was, she thought it was hilarious. After thrity mintues of coloring, eating M&Ms, enduring her dad and five uncles' comments and stories, I hopped into my car.
Once again I retraced the small residential streets, headed north on 29, merged onto 70, a left on 695, a light right onto 795, exited on 140, and turned right at the light to get home at 1:30 am.
It was wonderful.