A couple of tourists from Chicago made the truly idiotic mistake of asking me for directions today while I was walking downtown. Driving home from work, I realized that, while I didn't technically send them in the exact opposite cardinal direction that they were going for, it still was a far cry from what you would call the "correct" direction. I may have also named cross streets that neither cross, nor perhaps exist.
I'd feel bad, but come on -- they should have known better! My inability to grasp concepts like "north" and "east" should have been clue #1.
Seriously, how did this happen to me? Which part of my brain didn't develop right, so that everyone else has this skill that I've never quite been able to master -- this "knowing where the hell you are" skill, not to mention the "knowing where the hell you're going and how to get there" set.
You skipped the paper placemat mazes, didn't you?
No, I never had a problem with those, but I suspect that if you suspended me hundreds of feet above the city and pointed at "start" and "end" positions, I might be able to come up with something.
I don't know how it happened, but it never ceases to amuse me.