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My husband, Tim, and I have been married for just over three years. In those three years, one thing has kept us together above all other things.
Our GPS navigation.
Do you have any idea how many arguments have been solved by that soothing, robotic voice? Countless.
Our first experience with a GPS came on our honeymoon. We headed down to San Diego, and since neither of us knew the area and since we were planning on taking a trip up to Anaheim, I didn’t blink once when asked if I wanted to pay the extra $40 for a GPS in the rental car.
To be fair, I didn’t think twice, either. I didn’t want to risk our lives looking at a map while driving all around an unfamiliar city. And I have this minor problem where I am the only person who can properly read a map in my presence. If you’re with me and you’re looking at a map, you are obviously wrong. Does that make me a bad person?
The first thing the gentleman at the rental car desk did was program the GPS to recognize our hotel as “home.” So we headed to the car, hit “Go Home” and we were on our way. Not a single argument. Nary a “you missed a turn, jackass” was uttered.
Although Sally (as we affectionately named her) did have to recalculate once or twice.
As much as we loved Sally, and as helpful as she was, she was not without flaws.
See this map? This was a section of our drive from the hotel to Old Town, which was overrated as a destination but included the best Mexican restaurant either of us had ever even conceived of. Anyway, As we were going under Interstate 5 toward Pacific Highway, Sally told us to turn right. So I did, onto Pacific Highway. But that was incorrect. She yelled at me, I took a few more turns, and I ended up at the same place again. Again, I turned right. Again she yelled at me. It turns out that I should have taken the less severe right turn. So I’m yelling. Why would we call that a right turn when it’s just a continuation of the road? It’s stupid. Stupid!
All the while, I? Was laughing my ass off. Also, can I just say that that Mexican restaurant had the most amazing grilled shrimp I’ve ever had? And the margaritas! Oh, the margaritas. I had one. It was a big as my head. I made it my goal for the evening to finish that entire thing. And I did.
Whatever. What was I saying?
Oh, right. Sally continued to provide us invaluable help in locating vineyards in Temecula, the San Diego Zoo, and In-N-Out Burger. On our memorable trip over the Coronado Bridge, Sally felt the need to interrupt our most important video ever:
That was my poor attempt at a Howard Cosell impersonation. In a related story, no, I was never in theater in school. And this burrito is good, but boy is it filling.
But despite her flaws, and her rude habit of waking me up several times on the late night drive from Anaheim back to San Diego, Sally proved to be the glue that held our marriage together those first few days. I don’t think we had a single argument the entire time we were there.
Months after we returned home, I bought one for myself. New Sally (and now Robo-Sal, my phone) continues to guide our vacations and keep our marriage on the right road.
Except when I’m driving. Because real men don’t need a GPS, and besides, I always know the Twin Cities roads better than Sally anyway. Right?