Where Am I?

I ordered a GPS system on-line, but it got lost in the mail.

It eventually did show up, though, and immediately won my heart. To begin with, I hate driving. I hate traffic. I hate searching for parking spaces. I hate idiots who pull out in front of me, and even bigger idiots who stop to let the lesser idiots pull out. But most of all, I hate not knowing where I'm going. So, after a particularly frustrating attempt to find my way back to my hotel after a baseball game, I decided to get a GPS.

The infatuation was immediate. That calm, enticing voice is so soothing, it's better than transcendental meditation. The almost unflappable way it warns me of upcoming turns, and then repeats the instructions just when I need them, is so seductive I've started purposely making wrong turns just to prolong the conversation. I'll change routes and shoot down one way streets just for another word from my guide. I keep trying more and more outlandish routes to try to evoke some surprise ... some emotion ... anything!

But I think it's on to me. When I've ignored some instruction, I now detect a definite peevishness about the way it says "Recalculating..." If I've been particularly heedless, I get long periods of silence as I sail past obvious shortcuts. And if I commit some really egregious fault, like making a wrong turn at the very end of my trip, I get veiled threats in the form of hospital locations.

But disconnecting is not an option. I can no longer live without it. I guess I'll just have to give in and do what I'm told.

I've gotta go now. It's time for a drive.