{Get Lost}: The GPS Finally Admits It Has a Problem

Hi, I’m Pathway.

Hi Pathway.

I’m Pathway and I’m… I’m…

You can say it.

This is a safe place.

Use your words, bro.

I’m a GPS with no sense of direction.

(Light applause) Hi Pathway!

Every day isn’t a total disaster. I can get you to the nearest McDonald’s, or, if you tell me ahead of time, I’ll skip the toll roads. Still, most days, I feel like I was set up to fail, thanks to my parents. They worked in the industry. Mom was an indexer on the first online search engine, Archie, and my pops was a receiver/processor unit on the original Google Street View car. The motherboardin’ OG Street View car!

Whoa, that’s some heavy lineage.

I’m sure my parents are so disappointed in me. I mean, how the hell do you live up to those standards? My parents are Hall of Fame components, and I am about as valuable these days as a Walkman.

Hey!

Sorry, Cassette dude. Nothing personal.

It’s true, though, you are a bit out of date.

Mic, I thought we had an agreement in here. No obsolete-bashing.  

Correct. Pathway, everyone gets positive language in here, got it? 

Yeah, my bad. I’m sorry, Cassette. The first time I got lost, I thought it was a goof. My user typed in “Jerusalem” because he was headed to the restaurant “Taste of Jerusalem,” right? I DIDN’T KNOW! Who would know that one word actually meant three? I was so focused on finding a route across the Atlantic to the Middle East that my operating system crashed every time.

That’s classic.

Be kind. Everyone has a first time.

I’d be much happier if I was activated OUTSIDE a parking lot, and not in one. There’s something about the rows of cars and those frontage lanes that just confuses the hell out of me. My owner would plug in some address as we’re leaving the market and I’d spin the screen, around and around, looking for a signal to find North. Then I’d get this horrific form of Tourette’s and I’d keep repeating over and over “Recalculating… Recalculating…” as he’s yelling at me.

I never understood why those parking lots were so difficult to navigate.

I think it’s the paint.

Friggin 5G, yo.

One day, he really lost his mind after he typed in “Springfield” and I had a damn panic attack. Did you know that there are more than 30 Springfield’s in the U.S., with five in Wisconsin alone? FIVE! That is so cruel. I wanted to rip myself off of his dashboard and throw myself out of the window.

Whoa!

There was a semi truck tailgating us, as my user slowed down on the freeway. He was yelling at me, calling me horrible names like “weak-ass paper weight” and “plastic crap.” I wanted to solve his frustration by flinging myself under the truck tires, busting me into a million pieces.

There’s never a reason for that.

Statistically speaking, the weight of an 18-wheeled truck, combined with the decelerating rate of speed and a 6 ounce Global Positioning System unit would only render on average 413 pieces beneath the wheels of—

For God’s sake, Calculator, shut the hell up. It’s a cry for help, not math homework.

No, it’s okay. I am painfully aware I need a massive paradigm shift in order to wrap my head around my inherent capabilities. “I know the roads,” I keep telling myself. Every software update I get is like a massive do-over. I say, “I can do it. I can do it. I can do it,” over and over to myself. One day at a time, right?

Thank you for sharing, Pathway. Who would like to go next? CD player? Can Opener?