Mr. Johnson travels frequently, and he's man enough to admit that he gets lost from time to time. So he went out and bought one of those GPS thingies you put in the car. It tells you how to get from Point A to Point B. And it's so polite!
Mr. Johnson programmed in a direction-giving voice that is female and British. I immediately called her "Celeste" and got jealous of the sexy way she said, "Bear right, then ... take the motorway."
So, I've been re-programming the GPS to make it more interesting. Here's what I've come up with so far:
GPS, drunk: "Get oudda da car, let summun else do it."
GPS, stoned: "Hey, man, like, I guess you could go right if you wanted to, but y'know, any way you wanna go is okay with me, man. So long as we end up at an ice cream store, okay, man? Whoa, is this a car, man?"
GPS on meth: "Go right. I said RIGHT! Right, you idiot! Gaaaa! Want anything done, you gotta do it yourself! Here! Give me the wheel! I'll drive the damn car, and I'll GO RIGHT!!!"
GPS, passive-aggressive: "I know which way to go, but I'm not telling you. I am so sure you'll be able to figure it out... (mumbling) yeah, forget it."
GPS, Mormon: "Keep both of your hands on the wheel."
GPS, Fundamentalist: "At the crossroads, turn right. You must turn right. If you turn left, you will be Left Behind and go to hell. Thus sayeth The Lord."
GPS, Druid: "Turn towards the way of the Salmon of Wisdom, who dwells within the waters of the sacred pool from which all rivers flow. That would be West. May there be peace in the West."
GPS, Hillbilly: "What you wanna do is look for the big chestnut tree, it's about three, maybe four, maybe five miles up along the creek. When you see the tree, there's a road maybe a hundred yards, maybe a half mile, on your left. Take that road. Now, I think someone said something about having that tree cut down, and if they've done it, you're just outta luck."
GPS, having a bad day: "Do me a favor, okay? Turn off the damn car, go back inside, and have another cup of coffee. Because I don't feel like dealing with you. Say what? You've got a 10:00 appointment in Southwest Philly? Like I care. Take mass transit."
GPS, programmed by Anne: "After 1500 yards, turn right. Oh, wait! There's a vulture over there! Turn left! Follow that buzzard! Hold on. Hold on. He's swinging around..... Okay, go straight. No, he's listing to the right! Hang a sharp right! Watch out for that treeeeeeeeee!!!!!
I think we might have been better off in the days of those maps that you could never fold up right once you unfolded them.
THE MERLIN OF BERKELEY SPRINGS