Somewhere South of Seattle
I exit I-5 North to enjoy a nice hot fishwich at Bessie’s Burgers. With orange juice. She has to double check the price (“I don’t think anybody’s ever ordered orange juice.”) But I soldier on, stick by my order and here it comes. I’m order #5. Fresh, cold orange juice. Nice hot square of fish on a tidy bun with marvelous sliced pickles.
Thinking it might be just about time to enter my destination into GPS, I gamely enter my friend Jean’s addy into Waze and head up the road. Soon the confident female voice directs me off the main highway into Yelm, saying I have another 1:54 to go. Now me, I’m thinking, that can’t be right, should be more like 50 minutes. So off I go onto the exit for Yelm, turn into the first parking lot I see and open Google maps. Closer to that 50 minute time frame. Great. Google map’s confident female voice directs me out of the parking lot and back toward the freeway.
And then, “Turn right at the roundabout…” “Turn left at the intersection.” “Right!” “Left!” And there I am, caught in the middle, pulling over to the curb. Well, climbing the curb slightly, a near-casualty of an honest to goodness Google/Waze GPS catfight.
How complicated can it be to get to Seattle, girls? Simmer down and let mama drive. With one swipe of my index finger, I settle the fight. Waze is swept off the screen, and I’m thinking, gee, it must really be hard to function hearing voices if they are yelling at eachother. Glad I have the technology to turn all but one off.
I make it to Jean’s cozy cottage safely within that 50 minute timeframe or thereabouts. In time for a cup of tea and relaxing walk in the woods.
No apps, humans, curbs or front tires were harmed in the making of this blog.