You come to a certain level of expectation  

about how things should work, based on whatever rules have been supplied to you, and you factor in your experiences with this expectation for how things should work, and even though most people would think you're taking them on a trip for attempting to convince them that your girlfriend is missing, possibly due to abduction, and suffers from amnesia brought on by an experimental procedure in memory revision, but you try to convince them of it, anyway. When it doesn't work, you get a little frustrated, especially when your house has been completely demolished from the inside out and you’ve been meeting strange individuals all over town who imply that they work for people who would more readily murder you than indulge you with answers. And most of this has happened in the middle of the afternoon, right before rush hour.

You get a little frustrated,  

even though later you can laugh about the set up. Later, when you're not in the middle of all the action.

"Why aren't we going?" I asked, almost yelling.

"Stop acting like a kid.  

I'm trying to figure out where we’re at." She said, opening one eye and looking at me while squinting. She balled her hands into fists and pressed her fists against her temples, as if trying to squeeze the information out of her head. At that point, I wouldn't have been surprised in the least if her head exploded, spraying the street with her blood and her brains.

"Janine," I said. "Can’t we just buy a map?"

She opened her eyes again and sourly glared at me.

"I’ve been following you around all day. And don’t get me wrong – I don’t mind! But I’m trying to remember how to get to this specific truck stop, and last time I checked, they don’t put those on maps."