The Litter Box

Sometimes I wish I had a chauffeur. Someone to cart me around wherever I need to go, whenever I need to go there. Someone who is always waiting for me with the car door open. I imagine his name is James (because aren’t all chauffeurs named James?) And I imagine that James would know about my Starbucks addiction and would always have a nonfat chai latte waiting in the car.

Unfortunately, my meager salary does not allow for such extravagances. It can, however, afford a little directional help when needed. Like this week, for example.

I’m in Austin on a business trip. If you know me and my driving habits (or if you know of Austin’s curvy back roads that could make any normal adult seriously motion sick), then you know why I paid the extra money to get a GPS unit in my rental car. I needed help getting around a city that boasts roads called Slaughter Drive and Convict Hill. I had no intention of getting lost in or around such a… um… hospitable area. Trouble is, I’m not sure the GPS was such a good idea.

Most GPS units advertise point-by-point directions, but I’ll spare you the details of a point-by-point story because no one really cares if I turned left instead of right. What I will share, however, are a few things I’ve learned about GPS units:

1. There is always more than one way to get someplace. Don’t mix a GPS with printed directions from, say, MapQuest. While one will direct you East, the other will inevitably direct you West. They both may eventually get you to your destination, but not necessarily the same way. Know, too, that splitting the difference and going North is NOT a good idea.

2. Hearing that automated voice say “recalculating” is NOT a good thing. Nine times. I heard this nine times. Is that too much?

3. GPS units don’t promise a hassle-free trip. I mean, really, what is it with me and flat tires? Isn’t there some limit to how many flat tires you can have in your lifetime–because I’m surely there by now. Apparently not, because on the first day of the conference (the ONE time I CANNOT be late) I found myself sitting on the side of the road, in the muggy Austin heat, waiting for a tow truck to come rescue me. An hour later, I was sneaking into the back of the conference room trying desperately to go unnoticed, only to realize that the ONE available set was in the front row. And not only was it in the front row, it was conveniently located directly next to the president of the ECPA. Great. Not only was I ashamedly late, but now EVERYONE–including Mr. President–would notice. Darn those tires, and darn that GPS unit for making me assume my trip would be hassle free.

4. Befriending your GPS doesn’t mean it will be friendly to you. I named my GPS unit. I’ll give you one guess as to what it is.

Got it yet?

It’s James. (You didn’t actually think I’d name it something else, did you?) I named him because I knew I’d be talking to him, and quite frankly, I was not comfortable talking to–or putting all my trust in–an inanimate object. I figured that if I could put my trust in it (or him), then I’d be able to get to my destination stress-free and faster. Guess what? It didn’t work. A GPS unit may make your trip easier, but not faster. In fact, it may get you there slower, especially if other drivers see you talking to… well… nobody. They’ll only slow down… and stare… trust me, I know.

5. GPS units won’t identify the difference between two streets with the same name or the same street with two names. Next time you find yourself navigating the streets of Austin, know that Pine Tr and Pine Trail are not the same road. Apparently, Tr now stands for Terrace, although no one told me this. However, you should also know that South Route 1 is the same as South Mo Pac Expressway and Frontage Road is the same as Gaines Ranch Loop. It’s all freaking confusing if you ask me.

6. GPS units were made for men, not women. I don’t want to hear “turn East” or “continue West”. I want to hear turn left; go straight. Or better yet, give me a reference point and a little encouragement. Turn left at the nail parlor, Cat. Go straight passed the gas station, Cat. You’re almost there, Cat. Keep going, Cat. Congratulations, you’ve made it, Cat. Now THAT would be worth every penny.

Unfortunately, no one has invented the women’s edition of this manly machine…yet. And needless to say, I’m a little undecided on whether or not the manly version is worth the money. Even if it is named James. I think I’ll save my money and wait for a real James–and oh yeah, that nonfat chai latte, too.