Trifter

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I can‘t stand it anymore when he tells me to turn left at the next exit or turn right in half a mile. If I wasn’t such a wimp I’d toss him right out the window as a semi-truck passes.

I can imagine him telling tell me what time we’ll be at our destination as I’m pushing him out of the car at 80 miles an hour and watch in horror and relief, through my rear view mirror, as the 9 wheels on the left side of an 18 wheeler crush and roll over him.

HaHaHa! I can see myself laughing with this newly liberated sense of freedom rushing through my veins while my fist pumps hard out the window into the cold and lonely highway air.

But that has yet to happen…

What has happened is that I haven’t read one of those large green signs that they put up all over the highways. Those signs that tell you what number exit is coming up or what services are available at the next off ramp. I haven’t had the chance to view the scenery, I haven’t had the chance to get lost on an adventure, or the chance to get even slightly familiar with my surroundings.

This guy tells me where to turn, he tells me when to turn, he tells me how many miles I have left to go, and how many I’ve driven. I’ve stopped searching for places where I can grab a cup of coffee or find a bite to eat, he finds them for me, then tells me where to go. I know no names of streets or roads or highways I’ve driven over and turned on. I’m traveling but then again I’m not. I know where I am but then again I really don’t.

I expected more from this cross country road trip. I wanted a trip where I can experience the road on a more intimate level. But this guy has done everything in his will to stop it.

I want to loose him but I can’t. Shake him loose or rub him off, not happening.

Once you get to know him you can’t imagine life without him.

Who is this GPS and where did he come from? Are the machines slowly taking over? Lets hope not.