Driving up to a crossroad, I was rather flustered when I was unsure which way to turn. Rolling down my window, I asked some fellow, smoking outside a public house which way my destination was likely to be.
He screamed out; "Right!"

I said my thank you and was about to rol the window back up when he continued;
"It's on this side." he meant right.

I commenced rolling up but he was persistent on letting me know exactly how to get there.
"Past the bridge!" he yelled again.
"That's great, thanks!"

But he wasn't done yet. He made to cross the road but an oncoming vehicle stopped him running onto the road to meet me. Nevetheless, he bellowed.
"Downhill!" He demonstrated with his arm.

I was getting tired of the whole excercise by now but felt it would be rude to just roll up and ignore him. After all, I did ask him for directions. I imagined he had veery little sense in knowing not to distract me any further but of course, that was day dreaming.

"First you go up the hill, over the bridge, then down." He was positively happy to commune with some total stranger. "Then over the bridge, you go down, and you want to go right. You can't miss it."

To my relief, the lights changed and I was obliged to nudge my car forward. I gladly did so. just as I turned on to the major road, I saw, in all it's glory, my destination. If the punter had said to me, "Just turn right, and you'll see it!" I would have no more frustrated I encountered.