Returning from a friend’s house the other night, I stopped at a service station to pick up some hot salmonella. I had to wait impatiently while a woman with a street directory wrote down the attendant’s instructions. ‘So, I keep going until the second set of lights and turn left?’
‘It’s the third set of lights, and you should turn right.’
‘OK, can we go over this one more time?’
I had to interject.
‘I’m sorry, but have you ever realised how fucking stupid you are? Probably not, so I’ll explain things to you: the book you are holding in your hand is full of maps. They’ve been around for a while, and I’d say most people — oh, say … over the age of 10 — can read these things. It has fucking pictures for fuck’s sake. Why are you asking this guy to draw you another map? Is this some kind of fucked-up joke? There’s a line of people behind you waiting to actually buy shit — and I’m pretty confident they can all read maps. See that thing outside on the corner at the top of that pole? That’s called a “sign”. The words written on these “signs” correlate directly to the words written on the little squiggly lines in your book. Fucking amazing, I know. Check it out some time — I’m not making this shit up.’
‘So … right at the next lights?’