There is this common opinion about men not asking for driving directions.
It is always coupled with that image of the woman saying, “are you sure this is the right way?” “why don’t we stop and ask?” “call your friend and find out how to get there”
All the while the guy is saying, “Relax, it is just further down” but he is secretly hoping that the road will curve back to being the correct way. His mind is working frantically in the background trying to apply logic to the situation, “if I turn left twice, spacing it out well, I could hide the fact that I’m turning around, save face and maintain some of my manhood.”
You might be able to get away with this in Victoria Island with its pleasant curving streets and brightly lit signs. You can buy time with your shoddy excuses until you find a familiar landmark so you can go, “aha! I told you it was this way. I remember.”
But this won’t work in places like Ipaja. Places where you cannot fake knowing the directions.
You can be all confident, sounding like, “Yea, I know this place. Just keep going forward.” But you’re faced with miles of roads all containing the same type of stores, and all the roads turn off into other roads with the same shops.
You can turn a corner and find yourself facing a wall. Or descend a hill and the road abruptly ends at a crack in the earth.
You can be driving on a proper main road with marked lanes and street lights, wondering to yourself why all the buses are turning off into a tiny muddy side street. Next thing you know, that main road plummets off a cliff into a dark abyss.
It is hard to continue to feign certainty when faced with that type of stark evidence. You have to swallow your pride and admit you’re lost or …
You kick the girl out of the car, let her find her own way home and hope you don’t have any common friends so that your shame will never be made public.
That’s what I would do.
Don’t let anybody lie to you, image is important. She’s not going to date you, not now that you’ve looked so foolish.
Pfft, Stupid boy…