Tunnels

Before I start this post I have to preface it with a few things:

  • This is mainly for me, to remember, my sister will probably be pissed if she ever finds I wrote about this in my blog, as it quickly became and event we don’t talk about.
  • I  love my sister!

A few other story related items:

  • Stacy is extremely hard to deal with and grouchy if she hasn’t eaten in a while. This runs in the family, because my dad and I are the same way.
  • Stacy drives what we affectionately call a “pop can on wheels.”

Last Thursday we arrived in Norfolk to visit my sister and her husband at their new house in VA. We flew into Norfolk instead of Newport News because it was considerably cheaper, but it turns out, in order to get back to their house, we needed to go through a tunnel (according to my sister, the only way to get to her house…we have since learned that there are a few other ways…one other tunnel, which happened to be flooded this night, so was not accessible to anyone).

As it was rush hour, dinner time and Stacy hadn’t eaten all day, and Joe wouldn’t be home until the next morning, we decided we’d try to find some food before heading across the tunnel. We used Stacy’s GPS to find a spot. I have to mention quickly that this GPS is a brand I’ve never heard of and after using it, Garmin and TomTom, I can safely say it isn’t quite as quick as, or as easy to use as the two I’d previously used, which caused us some problems down the road. We found a spot Stacy and Zach wanted to go and headed for it and a few minutes later Joe called to say that he was off work, but that he had to work on the 4th. Stacy wanted him to come meet us for dinner, because it is faster to go through the tunnel towards us than away. Long story, but we get to the place and it is only open for breakfast and Joe calls and tries to give us direction back to the house without going on the tunnel. Stacy is starting to get a little upset at this point and is starting to freak out. We head out, following Joe’s directions, but after several miles, we still haven’t found the street we were suppose to turn on, so we think we might have gone in the wrong direction. We decide to use “Ginger” to get back to the highway and just take the tunnel. Stacy is yelling by this point and when Ginger tells her to go around the block instead of making a U-turn she gets even more frustrated. She is driving fast and screaming and slamming the breaks. I’m truly scared for the safety of my son. I ask her to pull over, get some food at a gas station, fast food, anything. She won’t listen.

We see the highway and Stacy gets on, but going the wrong direction. Again, more freak out….she gets off the highway. I ask her to stop, to calm down. She turns on to a street and practically pulls into someones front yard, her butt hanging in the street. I don’t know how I thought quickly enough, but quickly turned off the car, grabbed the keys and got out. I took off down the street and Stacy had a bit of a screaming fit in the car. A truck headed down the street and looked quite puzzled by the car that was stopped in such an awkward way on the road. I didn’t know what to do. I had my phone and I contemplated calling 911. My sister was far beyond reasoning and I couldn’t allow any of us to go anywhere with her.

Thankfully, it didn’t take her long before she got out of the car, yelling, “Fine! There! Are you happy now? You get your way! You always get your way!” And she got in the passengers seat. I returned to the car and got in the drivers seat. I calmly turned on the car and turned around to get back on the highway. Stacy meanwhile tried to get Ginger to tell us where to go and turned the volume up. Earlier we’d played with the voice setting and she was now speaking Spanish, which caused even more problems.

We got to the highway and I spent an hour in bumper to bumper traffic driving a stick (NOT FUN!). Stacy calmed a little and we were able to have nice conversations in the car and we were on the bridge over water before the tunnel as we watched the sun set. It was beautiful.

The trip to Stacy’s house took us 3 hours….it took her 20 minutes to get to the airport to pick us up. In the end we ended up at IHOP, eating breakfast at 9PM.

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