I had a screening/producer Q&A for my film, “Last Will and Embezzlement,” in Norwood, MA, just south of Boston. Funny (scary) thing happened to me on the way up there.
I use “Waze” (GPS navigation software on my cell phone) for directions, and most of the time I love it. But on rare occasions, it cuts out for no reason, so if I’m going somewhere totally new to me, I also like to print out a hard copy of the directions. Good thing I do!
I was on I-95 South, lots of cars around me, in a construction area, all of us moving pretty quickly, when all of a sudden, some yahoo in a black SUV decided he absolutely needed to be in my lane, right at that instant, and did so without looking. I had no place to go, I was completely hemmed in, so I leaned on my horn – hard – and even with that, it took him a second or two to react and veer wildly back into his own lane. First I yelled something quite colorful, then I looked up toward the sky and said, “Thank you, Jesus,” for helping me avoid what would undoubtedly have been a devastating crash.
Waze immediately reacted: The screen changed, my map went away, and that familiar female voice said, “I’m sorry, I did not understand your instructions. Please speak clearly.” Really??? I thought I’d been exceedingly clear when I said what did!
The Waze program doesn’t give you a whole lot of information on how to use it, and I freely admit: I am technologically pathetic. I had no idea what to do. I couldn’t shut it down and type in the address again, not on the highway, and because of the construction, there was no place to pull over, so I thought I’d just speak the address aloud. Maybe it would reset itself.
I tried to say “275 Prospect Street,” but as soon as I got to the number ‘5,’ she repeated herself: “I’m sorry, I did not understand your instructions. Please speak clearly and identify your destination.” So I tried it again. “275 …,” but once again, she interrupted me: “I’m sorry, I did not understand your instructions. Please speak clearly and identify your destination. For example: say, ‘Find me the nearest parking lot.’ ”
Parking lot? Parking lot! What the hell is she talking about?!
Naturally, this was happening near the end of my trip, which was when I needed the directions the most. I certainly hadn’t needed Waze to get me from I-84 to the Mass Pike to I-95 – I just like having it on because it lets me know if there’s a hazard on the road ahead, or it will automatically take me on an alternate route if there’s unexpected traffic, because it updates in real time. But there I was, tooling along at 60MPH, surrounded by a kazillion cars all tooling along at the same speed, knowing I had an exit coming up soon, and not having the slightest clue what to do once I took it.
Because Waze had reacted so badly to my prayer (or was it to my deletable expletives?), I was afraid to utter even one more syllable, lest she decide to lead me to some abandoned parking lot in goodness-knows-where. So I said nothing. And because I said nothing, Waze shut down altogether. That’s when I remembered: I had had the forethought to write down all the directions, just in case.
Once I was off the highway and onto city streets, I pulled over, got Waze started up again, and was on my way. The moral of the story? I guess I’ll have to remember to keep my expressions of fear and gratitude to myself whenever Waze is on the job.
Copyright by Pamela S. K. Glasner © 2018, All Rights Reserved
If I’m not home accepting what I cannot change, I’m probably out changing what I cannot accept.
Pamela S. K. Glasner is a published author, playwright, social advocate and filmmaker. Learn more about Ms. Glasner at http://www.lastwillandembezzlement.com/ and https://www.facebook.com/pamela.glasner