Invited to lunch at a home that is in
a hilly area of CR with convoluted roads, I was quite concerned about finding
my way by myself. Leroy graciously loaned me the GPS as he did not need it to
go to his two work places. The car probably knows how to get to his work by its
self.
I made sure that I went down to the garage in
plenty of time to key in the address before heading out. Of course, right away
I chose a different route, because I wanted to turn left at a stop light rather
than a stop sign. The GPS lady handled it well as she informed that she was
recalculating. Once I turned off of the main drag that I knew about already, I
vowed to listen and follow instructions closely. Almost right away I did not
hear the commands when I turned because there was a garbage truck blocking the
lane and oncoming cars made for a serious pay attention to road situation. As I
drove along when that was in the past I kept hoping for more or repeat
instructions, but nothing came. Since she did not say recalculating, it must be
the way to go. About a mile down the road the GPS lady started talking to me
once more telling me about a right turn in .6 of a mile. Little does she
realize that I do not know how .6 of a mile feels. It was all good and I arrived
at my destination early.
Luckily Leroy has this thing
programmed to come to our neighborhood when we ask to go home. The only problem
was that the lady told me to go left too close to a turn, besides I was going a
little fast with cars snuggled too close behind me, to pretend to be a racer so
I did miss one turn. However, I heard her say, without disgust or anger,
“recalculating”. Soon I was in familiar territory where I could disregard her
instructions blithely. Poor thing she had to recalculate at least three times.
Paula
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