Thursday, November 11, 2010
The Lying GPS
I know I'm not imagining it. The thing flat out lies. I kid you not, yesterday it told me to get in the right lane and turn right, but the arrow clearly pointed left. I may have trouble with North, South, East and West, but I do know right from left.
Another time, I was doing one of my mad dashes to the hospital with breaky-boy (I believe it was the baseball to the eye), and the damn thing (aka the Lying GPS, or, LGPS for short) told me I was on a completely different highway. And no, it wasn't one of those double or triple-named highways in New England.
The LGPS lies about everything, in multiple accents and languages. I can forgive a lot if it's programmed to Australian guy, but all bets are off even for him if he lies about a Starbucks location. Plus, my real life Stud (thank you, Sherry, for the nickname which has now stuck) hates it when I mess with the accents.
After a couple of years of this, I know the LGPS does it on purpose. It plans its strategies while dormant, yet somehow not really turned off. One of the ways I know this is that it stopped taking me anywhere by going the same way there and back.
You know how else I know? If I ask it to take me to the happiest place on earth, it would take me to my MIL's. Asking it to take me to a bakery would have me pulling up to Weight Watchers, Curves, or Jenny Craig.
More than likely, though, it would simply take me in circles like the time I tried to take kid #3 to see a specialist in Boston. TLG was in rare form, putting me on a toll connector not once, not twice, but three times from three different directions. Each approach took about fifteen minutes, and it wasn't a cheap toll. We missed the appointment, and the LGPS is lucky I didn't "recalculate" its ass under my wheel.
I'm going to eventually win this battle. The LGPS may divert me a time or two or twenty, but I will be victorious.
Gotta go. I told the LGPS to go to Hell. Guess where it took me?