"Who's On First": Nashville Edition

First things first: we are moving into a townhouse/duplex. We'd been calling it a condo until someone corrected us. Condos are to apartments what townhouses are to... well, houses, I guess. Our new place is definitely more house-like, and only shares a building with one other unit. Apparently that's not a condo. Don't ask me, I grew up in the forest.

We're safely back in Wisconsin now, after a 17-hour drive home from Nashville. Is it supposed to take that long? No. Contributing factors? Big accident in Indiana. White Sox fans. Mostly White Sox fans. Still, we made it back, and all is well.

To further remind us that we had, indeed, made the right decision in where to rent, I have to recount one other apartment-agent interaction we had while in Nashville. Daryl still chuckles when I mention this one...

So we were looking at a few apartment complexes. We left early to visit each one, but this particular one was off of Old Hickory. If you know Nashville, you know that Old Hickory winds around the city in about five different directions. It's easy to get lost on Old Hickory, which we promptly did. So I called the apartment offices for directions.

Them: "Hello, _____ apartments."

Me: "Hi, my name is Courtney and I'm scheduled to look at apartments in about half an hour. Can you give me directions to the complex?"

Them: "Well, who did you book your appointment with?"

Me: (Fumbling through my notebook for a second). "Um... I don't really know."

Them: "I just need the name of the person."

Me: "Right, well, I don't know that. I didn't write it down. I've booked a lot of appointments during the last few days."

Them: "Do you know who the appointment is with?"

Me: "I'm sorry, I don't. I just need directions, though. I don't need to tell you who I booked an appointment with to get directions, do I? We won't be late, we just aren't sure how to find you guys."

Them: "Just go south on 65."

(I should mention now that 65 goes north all the way through Indiana and south far beyond Nashville).

Me: "South on... but I haven't told you where I am yet. Don't you need to know that?"

Them: "We're pretty much right off of 65."

Me: "But... that doesn't make any sense if you don't know where I am right now. I'm down by Brentwood." (Brentwood is about ten minutes south of Nashville)

Them: "Right. Go south."

Me: "But then I'm going to end up in Georgia!"

Them: "Just go south on 65."

Me: "Okay. Do you know what? I'd just like to cancel my appointment."

Them: "Who was it with?"

Siiiiigh...