The Bitch

I am not the best person with directions (just ask TMF). I am one of those people who has to physically be in the car in order to direct people where to go, and even then I find myself telling someone to turn left, when I am physically pointing right. I'm not sure where the disconnect is in body, but it's there. I'm really good with landmarks though, so my directions will consist of the following: Go straight until you see an out of business Sunoco on the right. Go about a block further until you see a telephone poll that's falling down, then turn right onto this road that possibly begins with an S, but you'll know it because there is a pink house on the corner that may or may not have a trailer in the driveway."

That being said, I am a perfect candidate for a GPS, although I didn't want one at first. My first experience with a GPS was with my dad on our road trip from Seattle to PA when I was done with grad school. He was so excited, like a kid on Christmas, with his new toy. We had to turn it on immediately even though we were going to be on I-5 for about 6 hours going south. Didn't matter, had to be on. At one point, we were crossing through South Dakota, and rocking away with

The Bitch

as we lovingly referred to her. We got off the main highway to get some gas(I use highway rather loosely. It was really just a 4 lane road in the middle of bumblefuck America).

I began my leg of the drive, and my dad got The Bitch all ready to go. She started to direct me to get back on the highway, but instead of taking me in the obvious direction of the on-ramp, she started taking me towards some construction. I communicated to my dad (who was singing at the top of his lungs to Rhianna...clearly we are related) "Dad, I'm pretty sure The Bitch is directing us to the middle of a construction site, and not to the on-ramp which is right there." He then responds, as only fathers can, " Honey, there are 5 satellites triangulated to this GPS, so I'm pretty sure she knows what she's doing".

When we found ourselves toe up next to a dump truck and a bunch of orange cones, I started laughing hysterically...so much so that I had to get out of the car and do a little I-told-you-so dance. My dad, not one to be put in the wrong, simply said "Well, obviously I didn't download the newest features to enable her to know that this was a construction site and not the on-ramp."

We continued our journey with The Bitch, and she steered us right to our house in good ol' PA without another snafu. Perhaps it was the desolate mid-wests way of laughing at us for having to use the GPS when it was clear there was no other path to take. All I know is that my father got the last laugh, because under the Christmas tree a few months later, I found myself with my very own "Bitch" and now can't live without her. Damn it all!


LOVE!