Some Say They’re Still Driving West…
When I was sixteen, I worked at a hockey rink in the Toronto area. I had a customer and their family (obviously tourists) leaving after skating, making some small talk and telling me about their vacation.
Tourist Dad: “Yeah, we’re gonna drive to the next spot now.”
Me: “Oh, where is that?”
I was thinking they were going to say a neighbourhood in the city or another nearby region, which is why I almost choked when they said:
Tourist Dad: “Mount Whistler.”
Me: “Whistler… as in… British Columbia?”
Tourist Dad: “Yeah. You know the way?”
Me: “To… the airport?”
Tourist Dad: “What? No! To Mount Whistler! We’re driving!”
Me: “That’s a long drive!”
Tourist Dad: “Can’t be that far. It’s still in Canada. Now, you know the way or not?!”
Me: “Well, yeah, okay, when you leave the parking garage, you turn left…”
Tourist Dad: “Left, uh huh…”
Me: “Drive five blocks, and you’ll see the sign to the highway; also left.”
Tourist Dad: “Five blocks, left again, uh huh…”
Me: “Then you turn to the on-ramp for going west…”
Tourist Dad: “On-ramp for west, uh huh…”
Me: “…And then keep going for about four-and-a-half thousand kilometres.”
Tourist Dad: “What’s a kilometre?”
Me: “A little more than half a mile.”
Tourist Dad: “Okay, great, thanks!”
They piled into their car and headed for the highway. I often wonder how far they got…
