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On the Edge of Common Sense: Charlotte, the GPS

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Columns - Baxter Black
Friday, 18 September 2009 09:39

Lately I’ve been packing a GPS locator when I’m checking cows. Now I can find my way back to the horse trailer! But the GPS in rent cars with all the streets and highways displayed turns my blood cold.

Jim and Steve and their wives rented a big SUV. They planned to tour New Mexico, take the side roads and see the sights.

The vehicle came complete with a GPS … that talked!

“Great!” said the Lewis and Clark of the Pecos Wilderness, “We can set our course and not get lost!”

“WELCOME TO THE ALL-STAR, TRANS-GENDER, FINDA-FOOL-ANYWHERE GLOBAL-POSITIONING-SATELLITE DEVICE. MY NAME IS CHARLOTTE, BUT CHEW MAY CLAW ME CHARLOTTE. WHAT IS U NAME?”

“Jim,” said Jim.

“CHIMP, IT’S NISE TO ME CHEW.”

“It’s Jim,” said Jim to the robot voice.

“CHIN, IZ TO ME CHEW.”

“Jim.”

“SLIM?”

“Jim.”

“CHIM?”

“Okay.”

“And I am Steve,” said Steve.

“SLEEVE?”

“Steve.”

“SLEEZE?”

“Steez.”

“SNEEZE?”

“Streeze.”

“SQUEEZE?”

“You win.”

“OKAY, SKIM AND CHEEZE, WHERE WUT U LIK TO GO?”

“Truchas,” said Jim.

“I’M SEARCHING. IS IT IN THE STATE OF SANTA FE IN ARGENTINA?”

“No! It’s Truchas, north of Santa Fe, near Chimayo on the reservation.”

“WE CAN MAKE RESERVATIONS,” said Charlotte politely.

“No! Not Argentina, you …”

“YOU DO NOT HAVE RAZOR VOICE. I AM CHIRPING FOR A HOTEL ON THE VILLAGE OF TOSTADO...”

“Not Tostado! Not Truchas! I mean yes, Truchas but in New Mexico!”

“PLEEZ DO NUT SHOUT, U WILL OVERRIDE MY AUDIO. ARE YOU DRIVING?”

“Can’t you even tell if we’re driving? You hair-brained bug psychic! I’m pulling onto highway …”

“WOT! SLEEZE ND CHEEVE, YOU’VE GONE TOO FAR … YOU’RE PAST …”

“Shut your trap, you jabbering two-bit satellite sign post!”

“DO NOT YELL AT THE MONITOR, YOU ARE 250 METERS BEYOND THE TURN TO ARGENTINA, PLEASE GO BACK, IF YOU DO NOT WISH TO GO TO TORTUGAS, I MEAN TOSTADO …”

“We are going to Truchas, you incompetent map snatcher!”

“YOU HAVE TAKEN THE WRONG TURN … IF YOU CONTINUE AT THIS SPEED YOU WILL …”

Click, BLOOEY! tinkle, tinkle, clunk.

“Nice shot. Now which way is Taos?”  PD

 

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