I just started a new job (okay, internship) downtown. Despite the fact that I’ve lived in this city for nearly 19 years, I have only driven downtown twice. And never by myself. Suffice it to say, when it came time for me to hit the road and head to the office, I was a little worried. Having resigned myself to simply MapQuesting the best route, Daddy Dearest stepped in and saved the day.
A frequent business traveler himself, he had purchased a GPS for the car. And yes, he let me borrow it. But not without a test run first, during which my boyfriend bonded quickly with Nuvi.
Sadly though, Nuvi’s love for Boo did not translate well into my own adventure with her. At 1 a.m. when my shift ended, I sprinted to my car, locked the doors, and pulled Nuvi out of the glove compartment. She then tried to direct me–the wrong way–down a one way street. When I refused to comply, she got, well, a little pissy with me.
“Recalculating,” she said, with distinct disdain in her voice.
“Well, Nuvi, I can’t drive into oncoming traffic, now can I?”
She didn’t care. Oh sure, she said “recalculating” but you know she really meant “Recalculating you moron. I can’t believe you’re so stupid that you can’t follow simple directions. God, you’re an idiot.”
After that run-in Nuvi has spent the last few commutes at home. I would rather get lost on the North Side than be disparaged by my GPS.