I put the Google Maps app on my phone. I think. I think that’s what it is. I dunno, The Mister told me to do it. Let’s blame The Mister, that sounds good.
So this creepy thing on my phone, it knows stuff.
I don’t mean it knows what I want it to know, like THE WAY TO GRANDMA’S HOUSE! ffs.
I mean it knows where I am and it tries to boss me around! All the time!
When I get in my car to leave work, it’s all:
And I’m like, “Nice try, but I need to go down Keystone to Target to buy a gift for Katie because my daughters have befriended every Sagittarius girlchild in the city and they’re always having parties.”
The map app doesn’t know that. It doesn’t know its opinion is moot.
It doesn’t know I want to go to the vet’s office, or when I want to stop for homophobic chicken nuggets or Pandaspress, or if I’ve gotta go to the post office on the way home. It doesn’t care that I like to drive through the hills with the trees on the way to the library, or that I prefer the Starbucks on 56th, or that taking 30th is the only way to avoid school zones.
Let’s be clear, it wants me to take I-465 EVERYWHERE ALL THE TIME, and I have begun to suspect that it’s less of a navigation tool and more of a marketing tool for 465.