How is it possible to put 35 miles on your car to pick up your partner less than five miles away? Read on.

A week ago Wednesday, Adrienne had been up since 6:30 a.m. after a full day of meetings in New York City the day before and a morning of meetings ahead of her. Plus she had walked nearly 7.5 miles the day before.

Her Amtrak train back home was scheduled to leave NYC around 5:30 p.m. and arrive at the New Carrollton Amtrak station at 8:20 — while it was still daylight — which was a relief to both of us since I was going to pick her up and I really can’t drive in the dark. Also, I was going to pick her up on the OTHER side of the Amtrak station because construction everywhere on the side of her drop-off the morning before had confused and unnerved us. All would be well.

Adrienne’s train was late leaving NYC and the closer she got to New Carrollton, the later her arrival time. Our texts looked like this:

It was now 9:35 and even though it was dark and I am scared shitless to drive on the Beltway, I was determined to show Adrienne that I could overcome all my fears and obstacles and pick her up.

I managed to merge successfully onto the Beltway and told myself, “Just stay in this lane until you see the New Carrollton exit. You don’t have to pass anyone. Let them pass you. But wait, did that sign say Exit 19A or Exit 19B?” I couldn’t make out the letters.

I blindly chose 19B and found myself on a very long exit ramp seemingly leading to nowhere. When lights and an intersection appeared, I had NO idea where I was. This side of the Amtrak station was undergoing even more construction than the other side. Buildings I didn’t recognize were everywhere. Also, signs like this one:

I drove up and down in the middle of the construction looking for an Amtrak sign or a “Kiss and Ride” sign so I could park. I called Adrienne in a complete panic:

SHARON: I don’t know where I am!!

ADRIENNE: I am still on the train.

SHARON: I need help finding the station!

ADRIENNE: I can’t help you. I am still on the train.

[Click]

I have no idea how I found it because the “Kiss and Ride” sign was the size of a small paperback book. But I finally did find it and parked. Meanwhile . . .

ADRIENNE: Where are you?

SHARON: At the “Kiss and Ride.”

ADRIENNE: Where is that?

SHARON: I have no idea. I’m in some sort of garage and I’m surrounded by buildings.

ADRIENNE: I’m surrounded by buildings. Can you put on your car lights?

SHARON: They are already on.

ADRIENNE: I don’t see you.

SHARON: Follow my voice, Adrienne, follow my voice!

I finally saw Adrienne in the distance. “Over here, Adrienne! Over here!” Adrienne saw me, and I was sooooooo relieved that she would now be driving. “How do I get out of here?” she asked. Emboldened by my success in overcoming my fears, I pointed to the sign (below) and authoritatively said, “Don’t turn right.”

ADRIENNE: That’s so helpful, Sharon. Now where do I go? Follow this Rt. 50 sign to Annapolis?

SHARON: NO! NO! NO! That’s the wrong way. I know where I am going. Follow the Rt. 50 sign to Washington, D.C. That way, we can get onto the Baltimore-Washington Parkway and head straight into Greenbelt.

We confidently zoomed along on Rt. 50 for several miles until I realized with unspoken horror that there was no exit to the Baltimore-Washington Parkway off of this highway and we were INDEED heading into Washington D.C. I said nothing at first, hoping we would pass more construction that I could use as an excuse. Meanwhile, signs indicated that we had arrived in the DC city limits. I meekly told Adrienne to get off at the next exit because we were going the wrong way.

[Expletives deleted.]

We entered the exit ramp and when we arrived at the end, we were not in a merging lane. Or street. Or intersection. We were in a Costco parking lot.

[Expletives deleted.]

SHARON: Oh my gawd, I’m so sorry, Adrienne.

ADRIENNE: Do not speak. Do not say a word. I am no longer listening to you. Let me concentrate. Do not speak.

We eventually found our way home. A drive that should have taken 10 minutes took nearly 40 minutes. I quietly dropped off Adrienne at her house.

ADRIENNE: Can you find your way home?

SHARON: I hope so. I’ll keep my eyes closed.