It took my husband months to convince me we needed another woman in our relationship.
“She’ll know exactly where to go and how to get us there,” he would tell me over dinner as I nodded skeptically and asked exactly how much all this was going to cost.
“Practically nothing – just think of all the arguing we’ll avoid. Think how happy we’ll be! Think how little time we’ll spend driving around in circles!” came his practiced reply.
With that, I somewhat grudgingly agreed to let Lucy into our world. She is tinier than I am (aren’t they all?). She has a strong grasp of geography (not my strong suit). And she lives on our dashboard.
Lucy is our new GPS, and my husband – to put it simply – is in love with her. Not like. Not lust. Not admiration – like the way Russell The Dog is with a really dirty sock. It’s all out love. Of that I’m sure.
My husband will GPS anything. He’ll GPS the route from his parents’ house to my parents’ house (a route he’s known essentially since birth).
He’ll let old Luce’ tell him to turn right – and he’ll even let her repeat it adamantly if he doesn’t turn fast enough (something I would never get away with).
Sometimes, he’ll switch Lucy’s language button and let her provide directions in Italian – he doesn’t understand a word she says, but he blushes just the same as I sit rolling my eyes in the passenger seat.
What’s worse, he shows her off to our friends and relatives. Kinda’ like the way we all called each other from our cell phones 10 years ago just so we could say “Guess what? I’m on my cell.” Pretty much exactly like that actually except his line sounds more like “Give me an address – any address – and I’ll give you the fastest route to get there.” Sigh.
Yup, thick as thieves he and old Lucy the GeePiS are. Inseparable. Sometimes, at the end of a long day of work, I find Russell The Dog curled up in the front seat just sleeping to the sweet sounds of Lucy’s voice as she tells my smitten husband how to get home from the train station. Again.
All that said, I thought dear husband would be thrilled when I finally showed a little warmth and invited Lucy on a road trip of my own yesterday morning. For the first time since moving us all to the GTA, I was going to conquer the 400 series highways by myself, and I figured it would be a good time to do a little bonding with Lucy The Woman/Gadget Who Knows All. So I plugged her in, kissed the boys goodbye (ignoring their careful directions on how to care for Lucy during the trip) and hit the road.
Sort of. Lucy is a big fan of the service road. I learned that right away. Mind you, Toronto’s “service” road is a four-lane speedway where people seem to hit 125 km an hour quite quickly. Still, I followed her directions when she said “Merge right” and found myself zipping along with traffic. Until she said “Merge left onto highway.” Huh.
Wanting to really give her the benefit of the doubt, back onto the highway we went. Until she asked me (somewhat haughtily for my taste) to “Merge right” onto the service road again. And then left onto the highway. And then – you get the picture.
For 30 minutes, I merged back and forth and back and forth – service road, highway, service road, highway – before realizing Lucy is not helpful. She was just toying with me. There’s a word for women/gadgets like her.
“Oh yeah? Want me to merge again Lucy?” I found myself screaming to no one in particular halfway through this zig zagging ordeal, never knowing where the exit would pop up and if I’d be in the right place at the right time.
“Merge this!” I bellowed and began – this part is no joke – flipping Lucy the finger before realizing what I had become.
I’m alone. In a car. Having road rage with an inanimate object.
It was like being on that electrifying treadmill all over again. Focus, I told myself, focus. When I did, I noticed Lucy had gone into some kind of energy saving sleep mode.
Ha. Just afraid of confrontation with the old wife, I figure. As well she should be. As well she should.
As for my husband, he can have Lucy. I’m buying a $12 map. Compared to what Lucy and her charming (double Ha!) ways cost, I’ll have cash left over for lunch and a pair of shoes.
And PS – Lucy doesn’t know anything about the Comment section on my blog either. So please read and laugh (hopefully!) but don’t bother leaving a comment, I haven’t been able to fix that yet.
