Men are From Mars

“Where are you going?” she asked.

Oh God here we go again. “What do you mean? You know where we’re going.” I can feel her stare but don’t dare look in her direction.

“You missed your turnoff back there. You’re now heading west. We should have stayed left when the highway split. You should turn around.”

Shit, she’s right. “No worries. We’ll pick up a highway going south soon. This is probably a good thing. We’ll bypass Atlanta.”

“You never want to turn around.” She reaches for the IPad and I know what’s coming next.

“Don’t turn that thing on. We’ll pick up another route in a few miles. Everything’s cool.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before. You should take the next exit. I have to pee and we can figure out where we’re going.”

We drive and my stomach tightens. I try to remain calm.

“Did you not see that exit ramp you just passed?”

Here we go again. “Yeah I saw it. It didn’t have any restaurants or gas stations. We could have driven miles before we found one.” The stare is burning a hole in my right ear.


“Relax baby. There’ll be something up here in a few miles.” Dammit, she’s going to see the gas gauge next.

“You know we’re about to run out of gas don’t you?”

“It’s fine. The needle’s not on the red part yet. We’ve got plenty. We’ll see a station soon.”

Uh oh, she just crossed her arms.

“You always do this.”

My blood starts to boil. These are the four magic words guaranteed to set me off.  I hold my tongue.

“I don’t see any signs. We’re approaching Bumfuck Nowhere, we’re out of gas, and I HAVE TO PEE. Now we can’t even turn around. Why do you always do this?”

“Jeezuss, I don’t always do anything! You know it makes me crazy when you say that.  I fucked up, OK? Just be cool. We will find something.”


Oh shit. She just uttered the one word that every man dreads. Oh good, there’s a sign up ahead. What’s it say….oh fuck…


No Services Next 36 Miles


I look down at the gas gauge in the hope it will magically reverse its descent. The yellow LOW FUEL light stares back at me. I risk a peek over at my stone faced co-pilot. “At least you get to pee”, I say.


It’s going to be a long day.



Daily Post Prompt: <a href=””>Stubborn</a&gt;

About Phil

Hi, my name is Phil. I’ve managed to escape the corporate world, rid myself of excess belongings, travel the country extensively in my old Winnebago, and find a new home on a beautiful barrier island in the Gulf of Mexico. I define myself as: a free spirit, a writer, a philosophical anarchist, a poet; a lover of nature, a lover of art, a protector of animals, as well as a devoted friend and partner
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2 Responses to Men are From Mars

  1. shail says:

    Haha. This reminded me of a drive with my husband when he took all the wrong turns to get to a shop. 🙂


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