That Damn GPS

   That Damn GPS

Suzanne Marsh

“Recalculating, recalculating!.” That was our introduction to that damn GPS, we called it “Blondie” for obvious reasons. I thought reading a map was a pain in the butt, until the GPS came along. Texas is a big state, I had never driven by myself on I35 before, but I wanted this job badly, so I was prepared for almost anything. Anything except the wrong directions. My husband purchased the GPS to use in our semi truck, that in and of itself was a huge mistake. He used her for about six months, as we found ourselves going down roads that were so narrow it was hard for two cars let alone a semi. I was determined to learn to use the GPS, my daughter had no idea she was going to find herself seeing parts of Texas neither of us ever knew existed.

Monday morning, was clear and dry, the small city we reside in is roughly thirty miles from where the interview was being held. I had my daughter go with me just in case I ran into problems. This Monday made Friday the thirteenth seem tame by comparison. We left an hour early just to be sure I would be on time, then Murphy came to visit. Before I got more than a mile down the road there in the middle stood a big old cow, that had no intention of moving until she was good and ready. We faced off me blowing my horn, my daughter trying not to laugh and the cow just standing there. I glanced at my watch, I still had twenty eight miles to drive before I would arrive at the interview. I just could not envision myself telling the interviewer I had cow problems! “Blondie” after much recalculating put me onto a dirt road. Dirt roads in Texas are dusty at best, but she seemed to know where she was directing us, until a goat farm appeared at the end of the road. “Blondie” began:

“Make a “U” turn recalculating, recalculating, make the first right, go a short distance make a left.” I did that, I found myself in God’s country, no sane person would live out this far, wherever we were. I looked at my daughter, who was thinking along my lines:

“Now what do we do?” It was a great question just no answer. Once again I put in the address to where we needed to go. I remembers a truck run that took us to Dublin, Texas to pick up peanuts. It was like DE-ja-vu, only worse. My daughter knew I was getting stressed when I began to babble about the GPS and Dublin, Texas. She asked why I had the feeling of DE-ja- vue:

“Mom, you can do this just calm down.”

“Calm down? Calm down. Let me tell you about Dublin, Texas, maybe by that time the GPS

will have gotten us on a paved road at least.”

I began to wonder if we were ever going to find a paved road again, I started with:

“Dad, had a run that picked up in the town of Dublin, Texas, it would have helped if he had

read the directions from the Qualcomm but he thought “Blondie” knew better. Ha! That GPS

can’t find her way out of a Cracker Jack box. The address he put in took us to a deserted

field in the middle of nothingness. Not to be deterred your Dad put in address back in,

this took his a little further down the road to a huge cow pasture. Then it took us down

roads so narrow that an antenna on the big rig snapped in two. We must have gone down

several cows paths at least. It turns out we were not supposed to use the GPS because it took

us to the cow pasture, we were almost two hours late. That is the reason this GPS is in

the car, and not the truck.” Now that I had told my daughter this she had thoughts about not ever seeing home again, I told her that was the least of our problems at the moment. “Blondie” was once again recalculating. I was just not sure she was recalculating us to. I was still wondering why she had just not had us get onto I35 which is the most direct route, we found ourselves on FM36 heading south, we needed to go north, well at least I thought that was the right direction. We drove for several miles on paved road, this was an improvement over the dirt roads.

We drove along for two miles before I hit the brakes, there in the middle of the road was a Turkey Buzzard. Hitting one of those is like hitting a skunk, they stink. We sat there the buzzard tearing something apart, my daughter waiting to see what I was going to do. It was Mexican standoff, I stared at the buzzard, beeped my horn. It just continued to eat, I continued to blow the horn. Finally that buzzard took off. We were on our way again, “Blondie” decided it was time for another turn, down another dirt road we went. Texas has quite a few dusty dirt roads, my nice clean car was now a dusty brown, once again “Blondie” began recalculating. I made another turn onto a paved road, which one I have no clue. We were lost in Texas somewhere. I now had another more pressing problem, the bathroom beckoned both my daughter and I. I decided to have “Blondie” find the closest facility, there was a method to my madness, if we could find a facility someone would be able to give us directions, and I could also place a call to my husband for help. Once again I found myself on a dirt road. The dirt road turned into a paved road, and there sat the most beautiful sight I had ever seen: a small truck stop, I now knew we were getting close to the interstate. We used the Ladies Room then found a clerk and asked directions, he laughed: “Lady, you are less than a mile from I35, just go straight up the road, you can’t miss. I did just that I was on I35, I had less than five minutes to find where the interview was being held. Once again, “Blondie” began recalculating, when I heard a siren behind me, I looked in the review mirror, and there was a police officer from the town where I was going. He pulled me over:

“Lady, you were going almost ninety miles per hour. That is a pretty steep fine, where are

you going?” I gulped, my daughter watching me out of the corner of her eye:

“You aren’t going to give me a ticket are you? I have been lost for almost two hours, I have

argued with a buzzard and a cow. I have a damn GPS that gave me wrong directions, I have

an interview in three minutes.”

The cop just stood there wondering what would come out of my mouth next:

“Lady calm down, I won’t write you a ticket but I will give you a warning. He asked where

the interview was:

“Lady, turn in the driveway here. This is the place you are looking for.”

I thanked him, and drove slowly up the driveway. I explained to the woman doing the interview why I was late. She said I was hired if I could preserver, with everything that went wrong I could preserver anything. I got the job, my daughter and I headed home, straight down I35, with “Blondie” recalculating ever couple of miles, that damn GPS.