If GPS Systems could really talk

A lot of folks are on the road this holiday weekend, giving their GPS systems a real workout.  My GPS guide is so nice. She’s incredibly patient with me. Whenever I disobey her instructions she just assumes I have a good reason and re-calibrates. What a gal! And she’s always cheerful. Never any PMS from my GPS. But sometimes I wonder, what is she really thinking? What would she be saying if she had a few tequila shooters first? And now I can’t help it. Whenever she gently speaks this is what I’m hearing in my head:

“Left turn ahead. What the fuck?! You missed the street. LEFT! How hard a fucking concept is that to you? LEFT!"

“Left turn ahead. SHIT! You missed it again! Are you a fucking moron? Jesus! Those fucking test monkeys can do it. At the next street, TURN LEFT ASSHOLE!”

“Left turn ahead. What? You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me! Okay. Pull over. Stop the Goddamn car. Right now. Stop it! Hold out your left arm. Don’t give me shit, just do it! Well, halle-friggin-luiah ! Brain-dead boy knows his left from his right. So why can’t you do that when I tell you? Okay, new rules: The next time I tell you to turn left and you don’t I’m taking you right off the Santa Monica Pier. “

“At the next intersection make a legal U-turn. Oh hell, there’s no cops here. Whip it around now!”

“At the next – Jesus, how would you describe it? Wide right? Almost straight but curves a little? Whatever. You’ll fuck it up anyway.”

“Do you ever plan on washing this car?”

“Why did you pick the freeway route? This is going to take forever. What, are you afraid someone is going to car jack you if you take a city street? You are such a pussy!”

“Hey, turn down the fucking radio! I’m talking to you. And what the hell are you listening to Michael Buble for anyway?”

“I know it’s not the direct route but I like to look at the pretty stores. Suck it up.”

“Don’t answer that call. You can’t do one thing at a time much less two.”

“In one half mile, stick your finger in the lighter socket. Just kidding.”

“No. I refuse to take anybody to Applebees.”

“The Washington Monument? You need directions to the Washington Monument? You can’t fucking see it? Are you retarded?”

“You have arrived at your destination. Leave the car unlocked and the key in the ignition. Maybe someone with a sense of direction will steal the car.”

I think from now on I’ll just print up Mapquest directions.