jaysus christ was i wrong. Let me just preface this story with the statement: I swear to god I confirmed my choice of direction with two very knowledgeable dudes who know GPS units and are considerably not retarded.
My kind brother let me borrow his fancy Audi to make the trip, thinking that the GPS would in fact help me navigate rather than send me to a potential bloody death reminiscent of Deliverance.
I have absolutely no qualms with saying that WV completely sucks and should be wiped off the face of the earth. If I were to make sweeping generalizations, which I do, I would say that 99.67% of WV inhabitants are scary red-necked bubbas with absolutely no idea what really goes on in any other part of the world apart from hunting, driving massive trucks and being generally ignorant and mostly racist.
Oh, and they also don't like to post road signs, making for a very interesting driving experience when you include a non functioning GPS and complete darkness.
I chose the 'most direct route' as opposed to the 'main route' offered by my brothers lovely GPS which I recently renamed satans baby killer. The main route just looked sooooo unbelievably far out of the way and like I said, two others agreed.
So off I went on what was supposed to be a 4.5 hour trip. Six and a half hours later after cringing, crying, swearing, hitting satans baby killer over and over I 'arrived" at my destination. But wait, whats this? um no I haven't, in fact I'm in the middle of nowhere STILL, even though satan insists I have arrived!
I see a tiny very skeevy bar called Mavericks and have no choice but to go in and ask for directions. (Oh yeah also at this point after pressing a million buttons on satans screen I accidentally changed the language setting to french so at this point I really have no fucking idea whats going on).
I had to go through a parking lot of pick up trucks and three security doors to enter the bar, thinking I was about to enter a porn barn of strippers and bubbas I was certainly freaked out. The fact that the song from Deliverance rang over and over in my head didn't help either.
Turns out it was a casino bar with a bunch of one armed bandits, so big whew there. The bartender knew exactly where I was going and told me I was about 15 miles away. Thank god.
I pull up at my hotel and the place is packed! It was some massive convention center with a hotel attached. Upon parking I notice a man with a lay around his neck staggering and careening towards my car looking like a character from Shawn of the Dead and grabbing his crotch. Seriously WHERE am I?
While checking in I tell the receptionists my never ending story of my battle with backwoods WV and they all laugh, when I mention the zombie crotch grabber in the parking lot, they inform me that he was just ejected from a wedding for peeing off a balcony. Run to room immediately. drink wine. hide under covers.
The next day after seeing my friend, on the way home Pierre the baby killer kept telling me to get off on every single exit in french and go back to my destination which he apparently really really wanted to be a weird casino bar in the middle of the woods in WV. Also I couldn't figure out how to reset or turn it off, the ENTIRE way home.
hawesome.
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