I was stopped at a traffic light, on my way to Target to pick up some general stuff, when I notice the guy in the car stopped next to me motioning for me to roll down my window. I figured that he wanted to ask me for directions, obviously not having noticed my California plates. So, I rolled down the window, and he asks:
"Can you tell me how to get to IKEA?"
I've been here two days, and someone's asking me for directions, but the most hilarious, brilliant part is that he asked me directions for the ONE place in Conshohocken that I actually DO know how to get to! So, I gave him the directions (and I'm pretty sure they'll get him there - he was only a few blocks away), and we both went our separate ways, and then Connor and I laughed and laughed and laughed at the irony of it.
Stuff like this happens to me a lot, actually. I've been asked for directions all over the place, even in foreign countries. I must look like I know where I am most of the time. (Remembers yesterday's IKEA fiasco). Or maybe I just look non-threatening. Or something. :D :D :D
In other news, we're finally going to see the new "Pirates" film this evening, so I'll be able to read all the spoilery posts that I've been skipping!