Recalculating

The windshield wipers beat out a steady rhythm as the car sped down the highway. Suddenly a soothing female voice rose above the static of the radio, “Take the next exit, in two point three miles.”

“Lost satellite, reconnecting.”

“Don't slow down, go faster. Stop!”

The driver hit the brakes, stopping his car in the middle of the highway. A large truck, a succession of cars, minivans all sped past blowing their horns. A silver haired woman with a dog in her lap flipped the bird.

“Recalculating recalculating.”

“Where did you get your license?”

Ignoring the voice, the driver concentrated on his driving and pulled over to the side of the highway.

“Hello? Is anyone there? Recalculating. Why did you pull over? We are still ten point seven miles from our destination.”

“Are you upset that I lost satellite connection and told you to stop in the middle of the highway? Can't you take a joke? Everyone has a bad day. Your hands are wet and cold, what are you doing? That tickles. You should think of drying your hands before you touch electrical wires. Are you trying to disconnect me? That isn't nice. You aren't playing fair. I do have a back up battery that lasts two and half hours if not connected to a power source.”

“Recalculating. Hey! I am moving through the air. So this is what flying is like. Warning, a large truck is headed in our direction I recommend that we pull out of the way now!”

The driver smiled as a semi rig loaded with steel pipe crushed the GPS unit under its tires. He swore he heard screams. He walked back to the car confidently muttering, “This time we do it my way.”