Getting Caught Going the Wrong Way

(continued from previous post)
I pulled the van over beside a snow bank and rolled down my window. A young police officer, disgust all over his face, strode up to the van.

“We are SO lost.” I said.

“That is a one-way street. There are a plethora of signs at the entrance.”

I hadn’t seen any signs beyond the no exit sign, but thought it best not to admit to blindness.

Where you from?”

“Hamilton.”

He nodded. My answer seemed to explain something to him.

“Where are you headed?”

“We’re looking for a place to eat.”

“Well, you won’t find it here.” He motioned at the residential homes all around us. “Head down to the end of this street and turn right. That’s the main street. You’ll find all kinds of places there.”

“Down to the end of this street and turn right? Oh, thank you sir. Thank you! Thank you,” I called after him as he disengaged.

I rolled up my window.

“I didn’t see any signs,” said Lizzy.

At the end of the street, we found our Tim Horton’s.

(continued)