Phone conversation I had with my husband after I got lost for the 8,000th time…

Me: Hello?

Victor: Where are you?! You’ve been gone an hour.

Me: I’m lost. Don’t yell at me.

Victor: You went to get milk, dude. You’ve been to that store a hundred times.

Me: Yes, but not at night. Everything looks all strange and I couldn’t see the signs and I guess I must’ve taken a wrong street and I’ve been driving aimlessly hoping for something to look familiar.

Victor: How can you get lost every damn time you leave the house?

Me: I don’t even think I’m in Texas anymore.

Victor: Motherfu-

Me: DON’T YELL AT ME.

Victor: I’m not yelling at you. Just turn on the GPS and put in our address.

Me: I left it at home.

Victor: What the hell is wrong with you?!

Me: You said you wouldn’t yell at me!

Victor: That was before you left the Garmin at home. I BOUGHT IT EXPRESSLY BECAUSE OF YOU.

Me: Can’t you just tell me how to get home?

Victor: How am I supposed to help you get home, Jenny? I DON’T KNOW WHERE YOU ARE.

Me: Okay…there are a lot of trees. And bushes. Or they might be horses. It’s too dark to tell.

Victor: Oh yeah, I know exactly where you are.

Me: Really?

Victor: No. You’re someplace where there may or may not be bushes. How is that helpful?

Me: Hell. I need to find a street sign.

Victor: You NEED to remember to put the GPS in your car.

Me: No. I’m not using it anymore.

Victor: Why not?!

Me: It’s trying to kill me.

Victor: *

Me: Remember last week when I had to go into town and I got the driving instructions from mapquest and you made me take the GPS as a back-up but then halfway there the GPS is all “Turn left now” and I’m all “No. Mapquest says to go straight” and it’s like “TURN LEFT NOW” and I’m all “No way, bitch” and then she’s all sighing at me like she’s frustrated and she keeps saying “Recalculating” in this really judgey, condescending way and then she’s all “TURN LEFT NOW!” and then I’m all freaked out so I turn left exactly like she says and then she’s all “Recalculating. Recalculating.” and I’m like “I DID EXACTLY WHAT YOU SAID TO DO. WHAT’S WITH THE TONE, WHORE?”

Victor: You’re not using the GPS because you don’t appreciate the tone of the robot?

Me: No, that’s just the start. Because then she told me to turn on West Lion street but there was no West Lion Street so I kept making illegal u-turns and finally I realized that she was mispronouncing Wesley-Ann Street. Probably on purpose.

Victor: It’s “Weslayan Street”. You still haven’t seen a street sign?

Me: Oh. Sorry. I kind of forgot I was driving.

Victor: You forgot you were driving while you were driving?

Me: It’s not like I ran into a cow. I just forgot I was looking for signs.

Victor: If you ever make it home I’m hiding your car keys.

Me: Anyway, then I’m all “Okay, one of us is mispronouncing ‘Wesley-Ann’ and one of us is lost and I think they both might be me” but that’s when I came up with what might be the greatest invention in the history of the world.

Victor: Street signs. Look for street signs.

Me: Haven’t seen any. Feels like I’m on a highway now. Ask me what my great idea is.

Victor: No.

Me: GPS for Stupid People.

Victor: *

Me: I’m totally serious. Because I’m no good with directions but I’m really good with landmarks so if you tell me to go “North on Main” I’m fucked but if you say “Turn at that Burger King that burned down last year” I totally know what to do so we should build a GPS system that does that.

Victor: *sigh*

Me: And here’s the genius part: we make it able to learn so it adapts to you personally. So like if I say “Huh. There’s a homeless guy masturbating” it’ll put that in it’s data-banks and then when I want to go somewhere later, instead of just naming random streets it’s all “You know where that homeless guy was masturbating? We’re going there. Turn left at that Sonic you like. Turn right at the burrito place you took Sarah to that time she was dressed all slutty. Yield at the place you gave that guy a hand job.”

Victor: What the fuck?!

Me: Exactly. See that’s the downfall of this system because really I just gave a guy a hand by telling him how to get a job. But robots don’t get the subtle intricacies of human languages so there’d be a learning curve. We’d have to put that in the brochure. Like a disclaimer.

Victor: How long do you have to be missing before I can start dating again?

Me: I’m just saying this robot isn’t perfected yet, dude. It’s close though. I wouldn’t use it with your mom in the car though, just in case. OHMYGOD I TOTALLY KNOW WHERE I AM!

Victor: You’re at the place you gave that guy a hand-job?

Me: No. I’m at that abandoned building that looks like it’s owned by Branch-Davidians.

Victor: Huh. The rest of the world calls that “Dallas Street“. So can you get home now?

Me: I think so. Left at that spooky bar that looks like it’s out of Scooby-Doo, left at the place we saw that wild boar that turned out to be a dog, right at the corner where I threw up that one time. Right?

Victor: You make my head hurt.

Me: DUDE, WE ARE GOING TO BE MILLIONAIRES.

Epilogue: I made it home*. Victor duct-taped the GPS to my windshield and refused to build me a robot. It’s like he wants us to be poor.

*Disclaimer: By “made it home” I mean I got lost again and Victor had to come find me so I could follow him home. The point is, I made it home. And that I had no robot. This whole post is kind of a tragedy. Victor says he agrees but probably not for the same reasons.

Comment of the day: My mom would so buy your landmark robot GPS. She gives me directions to things like “Turn left at Bobby McGillicutty’s old house then go past that place where we gave them the dog then turn at the Thriftway and go about how long it takes to walk to Grams and then turn left and you’ll see the house that looks like that house that I like and then one more right and you’re there.” And I’m all WHO THE FUCK IS BOBBY FUCKING MCGILLICUTTY? And it turns out it’s some guy she went to kindergarten with. Because obviously I would know that. And that dog? Was easily 30 years ago. And the Thriftway burned down in 1983 and is now an LA fitness, and whose walking are we timing here? So then I’m all, lets just drink whiskey for dinner and then she’s all “I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHY I TRY”. Neither do I, Ma. NEITHER DO I. ~ Miss Thystle