After
my last drive down the Arizona street that landed me in Colorado, Stij decided
that the time had come to install a GPS in the car.
“And
what does GPS stand for? Go Park
Somewhere?” I asked.
“In
your case, most likely.”
“I
think I’ll be cooking dinner tonight…”
“I
take it back! I’m sorry!”
“That’s
better. Now how do you work this thing?”
“You
just turn it on and tell it your destination address. After you do that, it will tell you, turn by
turn how to get there.”
“Wow,
that’s great.”
“I
hope it helps. I’ve got to get going if
I’m going to make that meeting before 9:30, so I’ll see you later.” He jumped into the truck and left.
I
was all alone with this new gadget, so I thought I’d try it out.
Three
hours later, Stij walked in the door. “Do
you hear shrieking outside? I hear shrieking.”
“Oh,
that's just the GPS. It’s giving me turn
by turn directions to Moscow. About now,
I think it may be drowning in the Pacific Ocean.”
Stij
sighed. “I’m going to go turn it off.” He opened the door and stepped outside, just
as a police cruiser pulled up.
The
police exited the vehicle with guns drawn.
“Stop right there! Who’s doing
all that screaming?”
“It’s
the car—my wife tricked it into the Pacific Ocean.”
They
lowered their guns. “Hey, your wife
wouldn’t be Carson Buckingham, would she?”
“The
same.”
While
Stij turned the gurgling GPS off, one of the officers clicked on his shoulder
radio. “We’re at the location. Everything’s under control. It’s Carson again.”
“Holy
Mother of God, what’s that crazy bitch done now? She’s not cooking again, is she?”
“You
wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” He
clicked it off again.
The
other officer was about to re-holster his weapon, but instead held it out to
Stij. “Sure you don’t want this?”
“Not
today, thanks.”
They
left shortly afterward.
When
Stij came back inside, he said, “Your reputation is really starting to spin out
of control around here.”
“Are
you saying that it’s time to move again?”
“No. And by the way, you’re supposed to use the
GPS while you’re driving so it can tell you where to turn. You don’t
use it in the driveway.”
“But
you didn’t say that.”
“That’s
because I forget who I’m talking to, sometimes.”
“Okay,
then I’ll take it out for a spin. Do you
need me to pick up anything for you?”
“Let’s
try Home Depot again,” he said, and gave me a list.
When
I was sitting in the car, he leaned in the window and showed me another
interesting feature of the GPS.
“You
can have either a man’s voice or a woman’s voice giving you directions. You just press that button once for a man’s
voice and twice for a woman’s.”
“Okay,
I’m off. See you later.”
After
I backed out of the driveway, I pushed the button twice, and getting no
response, I pushed it again a few times.
Finally, results.
Unfortunately,
I now had both male and female voices giving me directions, and it went something
like this:
Male: “Take
your next left.”
Female: “Oh, don’t do that!”
Male:
“It’s a short cut.”
Female:
“I’ve been on your ‘shortcuts.’ Wanna see Albuquerque, sweetie—just follow his directions!”
Male: “Okay, now you missed the left you were
supposed to take.”
Female: “She needs to turn around, then.”
Male: “She doesn’t need to turn around. I’ll plot a different route.”
Female: “Have you ever noticed how men never, ever turn around? Well, honey, if you go down about a mile and
turn right, there’s this cute little dress shop…”
Male: “We’re going to Home Depot, goddammit!”
Well,
you get the idea. This went on for quite
some time. I finally had to call Stij.
“Hello?”
“Hi. It’s me.”
“Are
you planning on coming home tonight?”
“Eventually. I got lost again.”
“What? How is that possible?”
“Weeeeell,
there was a problem with the GPS.”
“What
happened?”
“It
exploded.”
“Where
are you?”
“Colorado.”
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