I’m not usually one to complain about the male ego, but I feel like I should say something. I may be bound and gagged in the back seat of a Pontiac, but at least I know how to ask for help when I need it, and man, we need directions. That’s right: my kidnapper is 100% lost but totally won’t admit it. How annoying!!
Seriously, what is it with men? They come into your bedroom at 4 a.m., hold you at knifepoint and tell you they’ll murder your whole family if you make a peep. It’s like, yeah dude, I GET how kidnapping works. Don’t mansplain your abduction to me! You’re a very unhinged psychopath with no respect for human life! I figured that out when you kicked my cat as we were leaving my apartment. And then you couldn’t remember where you parked the getaway car… it’s like, what are you even doing?
Oh God, he just took a fourth left turn. He has no fucking idea where we are. Are we ever going to make it to the bunker I’m probably going to spend three weeks in before the SWAT team comes and finds me? Probably not, if this guy can’t even find his way to the fucking highway. It’s not hard; you just go west on Fullerton until you hit 90/94. Use a map and just admit you’re lost, dude!
I bet when we reach our destination, there won’t even be food there. Clearly this man is incapable of planning ahead. Meanwhile, he’s such a fucking braggart. He won’t stop talking about how he’s been crafting this underground bunker with his bare hands since the day I was born. We get it! You have a tool shed! Cool, bro. I could build a bunker too, but I have a fucking LIFE. I mean, I did, until about three hours ago, when it was rudely interrupted by this completely incompetent kidnapper. This feels like every single Tinder date I’ve ever been on.
Speaking of dating, I’m pretty sure my kidnapper keeps calling me, “my bride.” I’m so sick of women getting shit for wanting commitment—guys are the needy ones! You need women to fill in some void for you and you need to use a fucking GPS already!
Oh god, it sounds like he just turned the wrong way down a one-way street. I get that he doesn’t want to use Google Maps on a smartphone because the feds will track him down. That’s fine! I get it. But he could totally pull over to a gas station and ask for directions, then murder the attendant so they don’t tip off the cops. Is that really so hard? I’ve been chewing on this gag for hours; it’d be nice to get it off. And he’s been talking up this bunker so much, it’d be nice to actually see it!
I may be the one who’s kidnapped, but I know the secret. True manhood is knowing when to admit you’re wrong, and knowing when to ask for help. Be better than my kidnapper: print out directions first!