Starling St

"7:00, got 30 minutes to go" I mumble as my gaze diverts from the dashboard clock back onto the road.
I pull up to the first intersection and squint through the glare of the headlights to read the nearest street sign.
     "Starling St...never heard of it. Good start" I mumble to myself again.
     Not that long to get to my destination. Well no point just sitting here, time to drive. Left turn, right turn, left turn, two more rights, a left, 2 street lights and a flying pigeon to the windshield.
     "7:12"
     I pull over and read the closest sign, trying to get my bearings.
     "Mediun St....never heard of it."
     Damn my ridiculously random navigational skills. Wait, what am I saying? I'm not lost; everything around me is just not where it's supposed to be. Undeterred by these ridiculously random streets, I keep driving. I'll bound to be somewhere if I keep moving.
     Right turn, left turn, red light, right turn, green light, straight ahead, dead-end, U-turn, green light, left turn and a flashing petrol light.
     Confident in the power of dumb luck, I pull up to the nearest street sign with certainty that it will have letters arranged in a familiar order.
     "Loest St"
     At least I know where I am now. Too bad I just don't know what Loest St is.
     I slowly redirect my eyes to the clock, hoping time would be kind enough to be a bit sluggish than it'd usually be.
     "7:32"
     I'm not late. Everyone else is just early.
     As I begin to move again on another frustratingly random detour, a pair of lights creep up into my rear view mirror. I strain my eyes through the darkness and vaguely make out the driver. Well dressed man in a suit. He looks like he's going the same place I am. But what's the chance of him actually going to where I need to be...but then again what's the chance of him NOT going to where I need to be.
     "7:35"
     Crap, no time for logic. Follow that strange man. If I get lost, I can just blame it on him.
     Right turn, right turn, green light, left turn, green light, straight ahead, red light, left turn, right turn and a brake light.
     The strange man I'm stalking pulls up to a driveway and into a garage. He wasn't going somewhere, he was going home. How inconsiderate of him. I try to re-regain my bearings and read the nearest street sign.
     "Starling St"
     WTF!!!???
     In my frustration, I grab the club lock and start bashing the steering wheel. My hissy fit starts to slow down enough for me to stare back at the clock.
     "7:42"
     I should probably look for my map. Why didn't I look for it earlier? Why didn't I ask that question earlier? Why am I asking questions instead of looking for it? Why!?
     I wildly rummage through my glove box. Finally! I found my sunglasses. Been looking for them for weeks. But it doesn't help me now, it's in the pitch of night. The world is not bright enough for me to be wearing sunnies. Where's that map? I didn't lose it, it's just not where it's suppose to be..... ARRRGAUGGSAHH!!!
    "7:45"
    I'm very un-early to whatever it is I need to be, situated wherever it is I'm currently not.
    Off in the distance, I see a tall man in a hoodie. Ignoring the warnings I often hear on the news of crazy serial killers roaming the streets, I foolishly, and retardedly, wave down the potentially deadly pedestrian.
    "What do you want?" The man asks as he comes up to the window.
    I show my surprise at his straight-forwardness by spastically stringing together non-coherent noises.
    Irritated at my apparent retardation, the man lets out a frustrated grunt and starts to walk off.
    "Wait!" I shout back at him, prompting him to reluctantly walk back.
    "What?" He says, with nostrils flaring.
    Knowing I only have one chance before he walks off for good in complete annoyance, I ask the most sensible question that comes to mind.
    "Have you seen my map?"