[In a sensible white car sits a businessman in a proper suit and tie, looking frazzled and worried and gripping the steering wheel nervously]
Grant: (Drives down a rather busy three-lane street) This can’t possibly be right (looks
down at directions which rest on the passenger seat) The plane was two hours
late, luggage was a disaster at Dulles, then another hour at the car rental counter
and now I’m lost! Bloody internet directions!
[Cars honk noisily]
Grant: (looks up at the road and slamming on the brakes at a red light) Oh bloody hell!
[To the side of him is an unmistakable white house]
Grant: Well, this may not be Alexandria, but at least I know where I am now. (Pulls into
the parking lot, waits as officers check the car for bombs, then storms out towards
the nearest uniformed official) Excuse me, Sir?
Guard: Ticket please (holds out hand impatiently)
Grant: No, I don’t have a ticket… I need—
Guard: Well, you have to have a ticket to enter. The booth that sells tour tickets is just
over there. (points)
Grant: I’m not here on holiday to tour, I’m in need of help, you see—
Guard: One ticket to enter.
Grant: I don’t intend to enter. And I don’t have a ticket! I simply need—
Guard: Well, if you don’t have a ticket what are you doing here? No loitering!
Grant: If you would just bloody listen to me for one sec—
Guard: (angrily) Listen, Son, don’t take that tone with me or I’ll call security.
Grant: (rolls eyes) I thought you were security. Or is that badge just decoration?
Guard: (glares at him) Would you like for me to make a call to the police and the FBI?
Grant: No, that won’t be at all necessary. I simple need to ask you for some directions.
I’m terribly lost.
Guard: Directions… (mutters) another lost tourist. (louder) Please step aside, Son
and let the “Ticket Holders” pass and them maybe I’ll help you (waves him back)
Grant: (steps away and crosses arms impatiently) Bloody terrific. (taps foot) Just grand.
(regards watch and looks tremendously upset. Pushes through line back to the
guard) Listen, I’m terribly late by a quarter past now. Can you please—
Guard: Ticket please (holds out hand)
Grant: For the Love of God… I don’t have a ticket! I just talked to you a bloody moment
ago!
Guard: Oh yes, the rude Englishman. Didn’t I tell you to come back later?
Grant: Oh yes, the daft guard. You did indeed but I’m late for my meeting and I’m
pretty sure I’m in the wrong city. (looks around as if looking for a magical sign
pointing him to the right city)
Guard: Well then, what city are you supposed to be in?
Grant: Alexandria.
Guard: (laughs) Did you get a look at this tiny house here behind me? Well, Son
you are in the wrong city.
Grant: Yes, I realize that. And would you please stop calling me “Son”?
Guard: Sure thing, Sport.
Grant: Look, I’m thirty-seven and a highly successful businessman in England and have
two degrees from Oxford and—
Guard: And you’re in the wrong city, Son.
Grant: (exasperated) That’s why I’ve been trying to get directions from you.
Guard: (pauses to take more tickets) So you need directions, huh?
Grant: (glares at the guard) Yes, I believe I may have mentioned that.
Guard: Now, don’t get upset… let me think…
Grant: Brilliant!
Guard: Hmmm.. Alexandria. I’ve been down that way a few times. Got a couple of
cousins living in Old Town I think. Or maybe that’s Fairfax.
Grant: Listen, I don’t care where your cousins live, I just need directions. (glances back
at his car) and maybe a map or something. (looks at watch again and groans)
Guard: You need to relax a bit. At this rate you’ll give yourself a nervous breakdown
and I’ll have to call an ambulance.
Grant: Terrific! Maybe they can give better directions than you! At least they’d get me
there faster. (looks at watch again nervously) Ohhh.. my boss is going to bloody
kill me!
Guard: Hey, Son, relax—
Grant: Relax? Are you mad? I haven’t time to relax! I’ve got a meeting that started
twenty minutes ago, I’m in the wrong city thanks to some nasty internet
directions, and this meeting could very well mean my job. You want me to relax? Then just give me some directions so I can be on my merry way.
Guard: (ignores the rant to take more tickets) Alright, alright… let me think…
Grant: (waits impatiently)
Guard: (takes more tickets) Let’s see here now… Alexandria…
Grant: Do you even know how to get there from here?
Guard: (hesitantly) Possibly
Grant: (almost collapses) POSSIBLY?!!!
Guard: I’ve lived ‘round here my whole life. I’ve got two children who go to
Georgetown… wife works here in DC and there’s not much reason to go down—
Grant: Thanks so bloody much for the biography, but frankly I don’t care… I just need
directions.
Guard: (coldly) Well, maybe I don’t care if you get to Alexandria then, Son.
Grant: (surrenders) …ok, ok… two kids you say?
Guard: Yup, two boys. One wants to be a doctor and the other a lawyer, but don’t ask
me why. I’m real proud, though. (pulls out wallet pictures and brandishes them
proudly)
Grant: (takes a brief glance) Quite fine professions. And the.. uh.. your wife…
Guard: She works inside (points to white house) as a tour group leader but she’s got high
clearance to take ‘round the VIP tours three days a week.
Grant: Very fine, very fine. (looks at watch again)
Guard: My father was a guard here, too. Put in over thirty years taking tickets, doing
sweeps, running the metal detector… giving directions (winks)
Grant: You give a lot of directions, then?
Guard: You think you’re the only one who ever got lost in DC?
Grant: (smiles) I guess it’s not terribly rare. But just the same… I need directions…
Guard: Don’t worry, the beltway’s a tricky thing if you’re new to it. The bigshots will
understand. It’s probably happened to them. Though Washington is a bit out of the way from Dulles to Alexandria… still, though…
Grant: (smiles again) So, can you help me out?
Guard: Sure. (thinks a moment) All right, start out by going down Pennsylvania here,
then right onto 14th, which eventually leads you right onto I-395, that’s the
beltway, you know—
Grant: (tries to retain it all) … down this street… 14th… right onto the beltway…
Guard: No, no, 14th is the beltway—
Grant: Then why don’t they just call it that?
Guard: Because here it’s 14th, then it’s route 1, then it’s I-395
Grant: (confused) Which is the beltway.
Guard: Exactly. Make sure you’re heading to the airport.
Grant: But I just came from the airport!
Guard: Not that one, the other one, of course.
Grant: (looks even more confused) Take the beltway to the other airport.
Guard: No, towards it, and then get on the GW Parkway. That’ll take you over that way.
You’ll see signs I’d expect. Look for Mount Vernon Ave- that’s in the heart of
town.
Grant: Thanks so much. (looks at watch yet again) And all this should take…?
Guard: (shrugs) I dunno… ten… fifteen minutes max?
Grant: (brightens with excitement) That close?!
Guard: (smiles) If I’d given you directions in the first place, you’d be there by now.
(grins widely) But what’s the fun in that, Son?