A few years back, I went on a ski trip to New Mexico. It was one of the most memorable experiences of my life, one I will always look back on fondly. Every time I think about it, I always smile.
Except for one tiny problem: I got lost.
Here’s the deal. See, that ski trip also happened to be my first time skiing. As a result, I didn’t know jack about skiing, so I took a skiing class that was supposed to teach me how to ski. And indeed, I did learn a few basics, but overall it wasn’t a very good experience for me and is not something I would want to go through again.
Anyway, I went on this ski trip with a small group of four other friends. As they already knew how to ski, I was left in the skiing class on my own. We agreed to meet up for lunch when my class took a break, which seems like a simple thing that couldn’t possibly go wrong, but if you are thinking that, then you clearly don’t know me at all.
Long story short, I kept falling over and messing up while learning to ski, so I was naturally quite relieved when the teacher said we could take a break. I picked up my skis and left, but stopped and realized that I had no idea where my friends were. Had they forgotten to tell me where we were supposed to meet up? Or had I not paid attention when we were talking about that earlier?
Either way, I knew better than to use my cell phone and call one of them. That would be the smart thing to do. Again, if you know me, you’d know I choose the dumb, obnoxious way of doing things first before doing the smart thing. It’s not my fault that the smart thing and the dumb thing often look the same at first glance.
So I spent some time wandering the ski slopes, which wouldn’t have been so bad if 1) there hadn’t been so many people and 2) I hadn’t been soaking wet from falling in the snow. And with the sun coming out, I was even starting to get hot, forcing me to temporarily shed my coats until the cold air forced me to put them back on again.
I’m not sure how long I wandered. I would like to say hours, but it was probably just one hour, maybe even half an hour. It felt way longer, though, especially when I sat down and pouted like a little child.
Eventually, I got hungry. I went to what appeared to be a snack stand, hoping to get something warm to eat, but the kind lady working there informed me that they only sold drinks. Thankfully, she pointed me to the restaurant, so I eagerly made my way down there when I ran into two of my friends, who, as it turned out, had just gone out to look for me.
You’d think I’d be happy to see them, but because I was feeling like the Hulk, I yelled at them. Not for very long or very loudly, but I treated them uncharitably just the same. Like I said, I always go for the dumb, obnoxious methods first.
They took it rather well, however, and brought me back to the restaurant, where I got to sit down, eat, and recover from my unexpected adventure. I felt better after I ate, although it wasn’t until the next day that I tried my hand at skiing again.
It’s an embarrassing little episode in my life, but I reckon we all get lost sometimes. Tell me about your experiences getting lost in strange places in the comments.
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