Air travel being what it is, and given my general fear of flying, I decided to drive.  Although I generally knew the route to both destinations, I used MapQuest to plot out a route.  In addition, I used my GPS to provide real-time directions. And lest both these technologies failed, I also had my own general knowledge of the route.

As a result of these two trips, I learned something about my GPS. Like others, it provides both a map on its screen and a woman’s pleasant voice who gave verbal directions. In the course of using the GPS, I discovered something startling. There really is a woman in my GPS! While her recordings are non-judgmental, if you listen to her you realize what she really is saying is not what was prerecorded. By listening closely to her tone, her inflections and how she emphasizes what she says, I now know what she really is saying.

Having endured her commands for about 2500 miles of interstate and local driving, I can now translate her recording into their true meanings.  To give you an idea of what I was subjected to, the following is a sample of what transpired. In the following, the GPS recorded direction is shown as GPS; the Woman in the GPS is simply Her. Oh yes, when you are expected to execute the command or finally arrive at your destination, you get a Beep—beep.

 GPS: “Calculating route.”

Her: “I see we’re going to Charleston—nice town. Ok, let’s go.”

GPS: “Approaching left turn.”

Her: “Just in case you forgot, John, you need to turn here.”

GPS: “Slight right in 0.5 miles.”

Her: “Don’t miss the ramp to the Interstate; it’s just ahead.”

GPS: “Slight left in 2.0 miles.”

Her: “Stay left. You missed this split in the Interstate last time.”

GPS: “Calculating route.”

Her: “I told you to stay left, dummy—but no, you had to get trapped in the right lane and now we’ve missed that ramp.”

GPS: “Approaching right turn.”

Her: “Ok now, take this right so we can get back on track. Sheesh!”

GPS: “Remain on the current road in 2.0/0.5 miles.”

Her: “There’s another split in the highway—don’t end up going left where I-10 splits off.”

GPS: “Recalculating route.”

Her: “For God’s sake, John—don’t you ever listen?”

GPS: “Recalculating route.”

Her: “Do you have to stop at every rest stop?”

GPS: “Recalculating route.”

Her: “What? You have to eat again? You know what your doctor said.”

GPS: “Proceed to the highlighted route.”

Her: “No, I don’t know how to get out of this parking lot. You figure it out, smarty-pants.”

GPS: “Exit freeway on left/right in 2.0 miles.”

Her: “Thank God, we’re almost home.”

GPS: “When possible, make a legal u-turn.”

Her: “You’ve taken this exit 100 times and this time you turn the wrong way? Turn around, you’re heading for the river, idiot.”

GPS: “Approaching destination on the right.”

Her: “We’re on your street. You think you can find your own house?”

GPS: “You have arrived.”

Her: “God, I’m tired; I have a headache. Get out of this car and don’t turn me on for at least a month—I need my rest.”

GPS: “Beep—beep.”

Her: “_____—head.”

 However, I have my way to get back at her. When driving to the golf course which is about six miles north of here, I turn the GPS on and enter the mall which is ten miles south of here. Then I take a leisurely drive to play golf and listen to her rant and rave—demanding I turn left, turn right, and make a u-turn. Ah, revenge is sweet.