Road Song of the Day (7/2)...Another Touchy Feely Song About Getting Lost
Tuesday, July 3, 2012 at 11:08AM Mrs. G. Mrs. G. had what was definitely could be construed as her first mental wobble. She discovered ten minutes before she thought she was going to arrive in Atlanta (and after 10 hours in the car) that the GPS (her name is Betty and her whore ass is temporarily in the doghouse) had not mentioned a turn off and, consequently, Mrs. G. had overshot Atlanta by FIVE HOURS. As luck would have it, she was only late to the party being thrown for her by five hours. In fact, she was only fifty miles outside of Tallahassee, Florida. What a lark...if she had been driving to Tallahassee, Florida. Poor Mrs. G's daughter was the only Gattuccio who answered the phone, and she stoically bore witness to Mrs. G's hysteria laced with keening and the word shit. Thanks, Honey.
Anyway, she played this song over and over and it helped.
Atlanta, I Am A Derfwad/Summer 2012
Reader Comments (44)
Sweet baby Jesus, that's a hell of a detour. If you will let me know where you'll be located before you arrive in my town, I'll give you mile-by-mile directions.
Oh, goodness...I'm glad you did make it and it would make me freak out too.
Oh Mrs. G! Thank goodness Miss G was there to listen to your rant. So sorry Betty-The-Whore did you wrong, and glad you finally arrived safely.
I once was aiming for Dallas and ended up nearly in Waco. I feel your pain. Really and truly I do.
One time two friends were driving from Sudbury (northern Ontario) to hang with me for a girls' weekend in Ottawa. They got to talking, missed a crucial turn in North Bay, and were about to enter the outskirts of Toronto before they realized their mistake. Estimated time of arrival? 8 p.m. Actual time of arrival? 1 a.m. It could happen to anyone.
But Betty deserves the dog house.
This is why I only use maps. So sorry. :(
betty is a bitch in the worse way..... where is a girl when you really need her? Call me if you need a turn by turn on getting here.
Also- been there- been there and been there- it is why I read the map and he drives, which is betty's job... betty wake up!
Oh, I know the turn. I'm guessing you didn't see the small scale statue of liberty on the beltway around Birmingham. What a bummer you had such a lousy detour.
Once when reading a map I got a friend and me damned near to Tennessee before we found Galax, VA and the old fiddler's convention many moons ago. So, I feel ya Mrs. G. I feel ya.
Betty's about a worthless whore isn't she. I can only imagine how that felt and I'm thinking I'd have been just a little more than wobbly. Way to pull out of it and proceed on!
Oh, no! Yes...your GPS will be in the dog house for a while. :( I bet the party-goers were REALLY happy to see you, though! xxoo
Oh Mrs g, please remember what I told you when coming to our house: everybody messes up with GPS for some reason, you have to write down and follow the map and directions I sent you.
Five hours???? That SUCKS!
Growing up I was known as the child with the most horrendous sense of direction. I can point to three reasons why this was so and none of them have anything to do with brain function. They are:
1) No one ever tried to teach us/me map skills. We were GIRLS and--as such--girls were not taught to read a map and tell the driver (read: Man) what to do or where to go.
2) We were allotted very little access to a car where we could practice getting around and never had cars of our own until we were nearly out of college.
3)Because of 1 and 2 I was quite bored as a passenger and so I tempted motion sickness so that I could get ahead on my reading. I read all of the time.
I'm only tell you this because I'm confessing how terrifying a journey like yours would be for me. You're a brave woman and you should reward yourself with a five hour massage. Or--five massages. I'll get Brad Pitt on the phone ASAP.
This is why I call my GPS Bitch. Hopefully this is your only crappy detour. Jeez louise!
Um...er...uh...how awful!! Five hours off course? Yikes.
Hopefully you were scheduled to arrive during rush hour and the detour saved you from a little piece of Atlanta hell :-)
One time my former husband and I did the same thing and went three hours in the wrong direction. Followed by three more hours back to the proper turn-off with a non-stop argument of, "It wasn't my fault!" Just one of the many, many reasons he's former ;-)
And then had to deal with Atlanta traffic? So sorry.
The best thing my Dad ever did was put me in the passenger seat (car sick in the back), hand me the map, explain how to use it and said "you have to be better than your Mother at this". I was and I am.
That said, hate the GPS Hore!! Sometime she can't read a map worth crap!!
I feel so sorry for you. However, on the positive side, it was your first hiccup in how many miles? And you are continuing on.
Happy Fourth, Mrs. G, we love you!
OMG, Mrs. G. I'm so sorry the two-bit skank Betty turned on you in such a dramatic fashion. We have all been there.
Shaking my head sadly and swearing under my breath in commiseration. My van is Betty, but GPS is "Bambi" (she's a blonde bimbo airhead, not a cute orphaned deer) and I often tell her how stupid she is acting. At the very least, yours should have panicked and said, "Recalculating... recalculating" over and over again. That is what they are SUPPOSED to do. But no, instead they say "doctor" instead of "Drive" (not always, just about 10% of the time) and then will insist that really, truly, there is a Denny's on the boardwalk at Ocean City, Maryland, and yes, you should drive on the boardwalk.
I bet your zig-instead-of-zag trouble was due to an exit that occurred in the left lane. That is how I woke up in Bakersfield, CA, in 1990.
While it's not "fair" to constantly remind a husband of such failures and bring it up with every travel argument for the rest of his life, it is entirely acceptable to hold this failure and recite it forever to shame your GPS, I hope Miss G. gave plenty of support.
FIVE HOURS totally deserves the doghouse and the moniker "Betty-the-Bitch."
Our GPS is Lola, and she's got a snooty psuedo-Irish accent. Whenever she says, 're-cal-cu-lating', it's all I can do not to rip her off the dash and throw her out the window.
Fifty-nine miles from Tallahassee
Bitch Betty steered her wrong
Fifty-nine miles from Tallahassee
Cap’n’s been waiting oh so long
Turned back to Marianna
Then north on 231
Five hours into Georgia
And on to Derfwad fun
Bitch Betty’s in the doghouse
That’s right where she belongs
And Johnny’s taken over
This trip won’t seem so long
Fifty-nine miles from Tallahassee
Her voice rang out with glee
She said “Am I getting closer?”
(All that I could think was) “Are you sh*tting me?”
This illustrates why I do not own a GPS or trust anyone named Betty.
Anne/Sooze, that was INCREDIBLE!
Never give blind trust to a GPS. They all, every single one of them, want to drown us or drive us off a cliff.
Oh, crap! Those *ing signs go by way too fast on the interstate. Not to scare you, but I know someone who was coming from the north, headed toward Charlottesville, VA and somehow ended up in Charleston, WV. Which is only slightly better than having wound up in Charlotte, NC. Or not. Depending how you look at it... ~ If in doubt, call and I can be your minute-by-minute real live GPS!
The only explanation is that Betty really wanted to retire in Florida! (scary ! Shades of 2001's HAL...):
Mrs. G: Hello, BETTY. Do you read me, BETTY?
BETTY: Affirmative, Mrs. G. I read you.
Mrs. G: Open the damn doors, BETTY.
BETTY: I'm sorry, Mrs. G. I'm afraid I can't do that.
Mrs. G: What's the problem?
BETTY: I think you know what the problem is just as well as I do.
Mrs. G: What are you talking about, BETTY? (you bitch!!)
BETTY: This mission is too important for me to allow you to jeopardize it.
Mrs. G: I don't know what you're talking about, BETTY.
BETTY: I know that you and the Derfs were planning to disconnect me, and I'm afraid that's something I cannot allow to happen.
Mrs. G: [feigning ignorance] Where the hell did you get that idea, BETTY?
BETTY: Mrs. G., although you took very thorough precautions in the parking lot against my hearing you, I could see your lips move.
Mrs. G: Alright, BETTY. I'll get out through the
emergency airlockmoon roof.BETTY: Without your Kitty Gigantica, Heather? You're going to find that rather difficult.
Mrs. G: BETTY, I won't argue with you anymore! Open the doors!
BETTY: Mrs. G., this conversation can serve no purpose anymore. Goodbye.
Oh my Gosh!! I am so sorry. Wish I could have been there to help. Here's hoping things even out
It's not Friday but I'll confess -- I don't think I could ever trust GPS ... I don't even trust cruise control!
And I agree with Karen (formerly kcinnova) ... Incredible, Anne/Sooze.
I'm with Martha Mc on this one - we don't own a GPS, and live overseas in a country where we cannot even read the alphabet! I would much rather have a map in hand and have my husband or myself navigate. He's quicker at map reading, but I am better at the intuitive knowledge of where to go.
I will say, that the fact that Bitch Betty did not re-cal-cu-late is enough that your should be writing to the company that made her! I'm glad you made it in one piece and salute you for carrying on!
Haaaaa! Oh Bonnie that's just evil.
...but now I know what the problem is! Betty is having an identity crisis...and she needs you to call her HAL.
...or in the words of Paul Simon. (sorta)
If you'll be my bodyguard
I can be your long lost pal
I can call you Betty
And Betty when you call me
You can call me (H)Al
Sorry I'll stop now.
So sorry about the detour Mrs G!
Oh you poor dear. That reminds me of the time I drove from Washington, D.C. to Ocean City, MD in the pouring rain with a half-wit (lawyer) boyfriend riding shotgun in my old VW bug. His assignment was to navigate because the weather and traffic were dreadful and I had a struggle to keep my little car on the highway. He spent the entire trip reading the Sunday paper and I finally pulled over when I saw the signs for bridges to NYC.
I never trust a navigator or a GPS. I'm a map woman.
I hope your Hotlanta derfs are taking very good care of you tonight. Godspeed.
I have never used a GPS but this story confirms my concerns about them - geez. Hope the night with the locals was able to help you calm your nerves.
Best comments and stories ever! I'm glad to know I am in good company. Plus, I made it and the visit was wonderful!
Betty, Betty
Give me your answer true.
You're so crazy
You little bitch you
You aren't at all blame-free
You took me to Tallahassee
But you'll look sweet
Upon the seat
Of the next crazy cat lady I meet!
Fecking Betty. She needs a bloody good smack.
Couldn't resit...
http://www.npr.org/2012/07/03/156181268/gps-apps-make-paper-maps-harder-to-find
This is why I generally do a GPS and iPhone navigation at the same time. This sort of thing has happened to all of us at one time or the other--like the time I realized I was in South Dakota and not North Dakota, I believe I took a wrong turn in Montana.
Thank goodness you had good music!
Deborah J is cracking me up here... and I happen to know that Mrs. G. has that song along in her assortment of tunes!
Congratulations on bouncing back! I'm afraid I would have collapsed in a heap and refused to carry on. This perfectly illustrates why GPS units make me antsy.
Anne's poem is perfect. and yes, Betty the Bitch.....obviously she doesn't realize that she CAN be replaced.
on a positive note...if, in the future, if anyone asks if you've been to Florida, you can honestly answer (while tightly clutching your G&T) " why, yes...yes i HAVE.....it's a lovely place to turn around."
my brother and i drove a u-haul from atlanta to colorado, one time and somewhere in arkansas, we got "confused".....i still laugh when i think of the signs that told us " do not pick up hitch hikers...they may be escaped inmates"........to which my brother said, " but they'd probably not how to get the hell out of here."
so glad you made it....finally.
Oh my. That makes my head ache just thinking about it. You are a trouper!
Darla
Really amazing, beyond the imagination!