The Real Reason Why Men Won't Ask for Directions...

I went skiing this weekend. I didn't wear my glasses because of the goggles.. I don't think they make prescription goggles, or I didn't care to check on it for a once a year gig. Nonetheless, I couldn't read the ski slope chart or the chair lift chart. But, I thought, how hard can this be? 

So, I chugged on over to where it seemed everyone began their journey and shoved off down a small slope. I came to a Y in the path. I went straight. I came to an other Y. I went straight. Finally I reached the bottom, where there was a chair lift. I took the chair lift. It brought me right back to where I began. 

Well, I thought, that kind of makes sense. Go straight down. Come straight back up. I'll take the first Y in the path and cut over to the next chair lift, and then I'll head on over to the harder slopes. 

I got to the first Y in the path and, indeed, it was more difficult, and icier. I found myself travelling in the direction I wanted to be going toward. I saw the lift I wanted to be on. "Ok, great," I mutter. Get on the lift. It's a cinch. 

Bam... I went right back to the same place. 

I thought... I don't see how this could have happened. I turned and went in another direction and still ended up at the beginning. 

So, without asking anyone for directions, I think, surely, the other Y in the path MUST take you to the other lift, otherwise, there is no way to get to the other side of the mountain. A likely conclusion. 

So, off I go. Skiing gayly down once again the same mountain, this time with rigor and speed. Swish Swish Swish... I pass the first fork in the road and meet the second with a quick turn. This is definitely a blue path, much more difficult. There were ten-year-olds doing side summies on snowboards. Yes, this was the right one. I get to the bottom and notice the two dudes manning the lift are different. I had finally made my way to the correct space. Alas, alas, with no directions and no help, and no clear adult vision--I did it. 

I get on the lift. Bam. Right back at the frigging beginning AGAIN. I could have knocked myself up the side of the head. WTF? 

I turn to notice that people are coming out of the ski lodge and heading to the right as well as to the left now, where I had begun. When I came out of the closet, I mean, lodge... Then there was only me. And I just followed the crowd. 

Now I saw that others to my right went to the higher ground first, which led to the better slopes. They didn't have to go the bunny slope to get the blue slopes. A lesson I should have learned from life, I guess. 

I got a good laugh out of it. Men would rather eat dirt than ask for directions.