If I lead, please don't follow

A Trip to Nowhere. Or Why I Keep a DeLorme's Atlas in My Car at All Times.

About seven years ago I was involved in one of the weirdest and most embarrassing events I have ever experienced. It all started innocently enough. R. And I were on our way to Tuscaloosa from Birmingham. I was a second year law student he was a third year and we had just started dating. We were cruising along the highway and suddenly noticed a huge black cloud in front of us (Later we learned a gas truck had hit a car). A bit further on the road was closed at an exit and we detoured as the signs indicated. We were a bit nervous as we were not sober and so we started stuffing gum in our mouths and rolling down the windows as we slowed to speak with the State Trooper standing at the edge of the exit.

Now, I fancy myself to be good with accents, especially Southern accents, as I did grow up here. However, this guy's accent made Boomhauer on King of the Hill sound like a BBC News Reader. It was so thick that I only understood every third or fourth word as he told us how to get from this exit to Tuscaloosa. The directions involved at least 5 turns. All I was sure about was that his last sentence was something like, "Bownn mdown gwinna Follow yup." I was too nervous to insist he clarify himself because as I said, we were not sober. Plus, R. was driving and we were happy to take our time and make it back eventually.

It was dark 30 when we exited and the twilight was fading fast. We had no map. All we were sure about was that Tuscaloosa lay 25 miles west of where we were so we headed into the sunset figuring that football was so big here that all roads in Tuscaloosa County must surely eventually lead to the stadium, right? Besides, we were never much worried about getting a little lost.
About 15 minutes into our "figure it will all make sense eventually" driving I look back and realize that there are cars behind us on this two lane country road as far as the eye can see. This is not usual this far out in the county. I begin to review State Trooper Boomhauer's last sentence:..."follow"... and ask R. if he thinks they are following us. He scans the rearview and says, "I hope the fuck not."
10 minutes later a few cars turn off behind us at a road that we discounted since it went North and we still clearly had highway going West, which was our destination. The majority of cars did not follow them. The majority of cars follow us. I am freaking out at this point. I do not want to be the leader when I'm not at all sure where I am going. R. Is being stoic "Well, if they're dumb enough to follow us that's their problem."

We decide to pull over at the next gas station and get them off our tail just in case. Good plan, Right?

Unfortunately, gas stations are not plentiful in the hinterland between Birmingham and Tuscaloosa. Five minutes later we have still not passed one and in the darkness at a rise in the road I glance back and see the headlights of a mile or so of cars trailing off into the distance behind us just as I feel the road change sharply to gravel. I whirl around to see that the nice highway has suddenly become a driveway. A driveway into a trailer park. A very poor trailer park.

As the residents pour out of their single wide trailers I realize it is a black trailer park. There is a barefoot man with a gun. Women in curlers. Babies crying. We have come to a dead stop and the dust swirls in our headlights as the people run around trying to figure out why a whole bunch of cars are suddenly dead stopped in their quiet little trailer park.

I lean out the window and say, "Sorry. Got lost." R. pushes the door locks. We drive on carefully through the park. Let someone else explain to the residents exactly what happened. People are leaning out of their cars and screaming at us as we follow the u of the driveway through the trailer park and drive the drive of shame out of there. Past the mile of pissed off cars, many of whom do bother to roll down their window to proffer their disdain in a manner which did not need words.
Yeah. It was so awful and so funny at the same time. I imagine those people screaming about us all the way home. Somewhere there is a couple and one uses "that trailer park incident" in fights to remind the other to not follow people blindly. Me, I just keep a GPS and a Delorme's atlass in my car at all times- and I'd never blindly follow that fool in front of me because I know she doesn't know where she's going.