me: Hi, I have an appointment for next week that I'd like to move up if possible. I believe my stylist's name is Stephanie.And over the weekend, we were trying to find the packet pick-up location for Joe's race. He was driving, I was navigating (bad idea).
chick on phone: We don't have any stylist named Stephanie here.
me: Anyone named something similar to Stephanie?
chick on phone: We have a Shea. And a Simone.
me: Can you look me up? My name is Cate blahblahblah.
chick on phone: Ok, sure. (pause) Your stylist's name is Nicole.
me: Yeah, that's it! Just like Stephanie!
me: It should be up here, on the left. The street starts with a B - I'll recognize it when I see it.Seriously, me? Lame. Actually, I blame Joe for that one. He should know better than to trust me for directions. And hopefully "Stephanie" is better at remembering my haircut request than I am at remembering her name. Oops.
Joe: Ok, let me know.
me: If we reach the memorial, we've gone too far.
Joe: This is the memorial, guess I'll u-turn. What street are we looking for?
me: It starts with a B. Take the first right, that must be it.
me: Yeah, this isn't it. It must be off this street. Keep looking for a street starting with B.
Joe: I think we should pull over and check the map. It shouldn't be this far.
Joe: (he checks the address in the confirmation email) It's on Mustian Street.
me: Yes, that's it!
Joe: Mustian doesn't start with a B.
me: Whatever. I was close.
Joe: No, not really.