My darling Derek had arranged a surprise date for us on a chilly Saturday and asked me to meet him at the Krogers in Bellefontaine at 10:45. I agreed and checked my GPS. It looked like all I would have to do was hop on 47 and cruise to Bellefontaine that way. I was pleased, this seemed straightforward enough.

Saturday morning dawned and I drug myself out of bed and drank my coffee while reading an article in some freebie newspaper we’d gotten about Shen Yun, a Chinese dance show. Apparently I was so wrapped up in the article that I didn’t notice what time it was and wound up running 20 minutes late, which isn’t like me at all. Thankfully Derek was running late, too, so it wasn’t too much of a problem, but I was still in a tizzy trying to get out the door.

Of course I needed to stop for gas so I did this in Anna because the Sidney gas stations creep me out. My GPS rerouted and told me to head down 119 to 65. Okay, I said. 65 goes to 47 I think, this should be fine.

I continued on 65 for a minute and my GPS, Gypsy, announced in her prim British accent that I needed to turn left onto Maplewood Road. Okay, I said. That’s not what I was expecting, but maybe it is a shortcut.

Gypsy proceeded to take me on the most convoluted route possible, giving me a tour of every single backroad in Logan county. I don’t know the backroads of Logan county, because nobody in their right mind has reason to be driving on the backroads of Logan county. I was lost, and Gypsy was in control. I was beginning to have a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Was this payback for all the times I’d made fun of Gypsy’s accent?

Oh the places I went. I drove on single lane country roads. I saw an Amish guy doing something in his snowcovered field with some farm machinery and a horse. I saw the biggest horse I’ve ever seen. I saw a very large bird take flight from a field. I saw many acres of prairie, which was weird. And I saw a “Cattle Xing” sign. It was at this point that I shouted, “Where am I at??????”

Every few minutes Gypsy announced a turn. I complied, blinded with fury. I reached my breaking point when she said, take a slight left. I took the slight left on a road the width of a driveway. “Do a u-turn,” Gypsy piped up. I slammed on my breaks and grabbed my phone. “I’m not doing the u-turn!” I continued driving and only had to stop two more times to make sure I was actually headed to Krogers and that my GPS wasn’t set to avoid highways (it wasn’t).

Finally, finally, rage emitting from every pore, I whipped into the Krogers parking lot and found Derek. I told him of my misadventures. “Here’s your birthday present,” he said, and handed me a book. It was called, “Ohio’s Backroads.”

“I don’t need this,” I said. “I’ve just seen them all.”