by Linda Campbell Rehmann

Created on: January 05, 2009   Last Updated: May 08, 2009

I knew I was going to get lost before I even started. On New York's Upper West Side the grid of streets is fairly easy to navigate; like in most of the city, streets run east-west, avenues run north-south. But that built-in reference system evaporates upon entering Central Park. That was my first mistake: cutting through the park. I had to get from my hotel at 77th and Broadway to 6th Street and 2nd Avenue where I was meeting a friend. Since I had plenty of time (or so I thought), I decided to wing it. As a big fan of the subway, my plan was to walk across the park and pick up the 6 on the other side which would take me downtown to Bleecker, a few blocks from the restaurant. On paper, as they say, it looked like a great plan. Unfortunately the hypothetical paper was not a map.

I entered the Park on a roadway at the end of 77th, and it immediately curved to the left. As I wandered, looking at the flowering dogwoods and magnolias, the pond and the baseball games, I tried to keep an eye on what I thought was the East side and stay to the right. But somewhere in the middle of things I got turned around. This happens to me quite a bit; my sense of direction is what one might call weak. Or nonexistent, either one. When I reached civilization again I was at 88th Street, further uptown than I wanted to be but I thought within walking distance of the 6 train. I turned right and started walking toward what should have been downtown. But the street numbers were increasing rather than decreasing and all of the street signs were W's, not E's. It took a while for this all to sink in and for me to realize that I was still on the west side and had not gotten any closer to the east side and the 6 train. I had progressed eleven blocks in the completely wrong direction.

I laughed at myself and my stupidity, but I hate to be late and was supposed to meet Dave in 20 minutes. My leisurely journey had just turned into an Amazing Race. I needed to change my coordinates from an 88 to a 6, and fast. Breaking into a cold sweat, I hopped on the only downtown-bound subway I could see: the B. Don't ask me why I didn't just catch a cab suffice it to say that I am cheap. Running a bit late, I texted Dave. Got lost. I overshot 6th and got off at Washington Square (4th Street), thinking that I only needed to get up two blocks and then across to 2nd Avenue. Dave texted back: It's ok. The numbered streets are confusing. Smart ass. It's not the streets, I replied,

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