Sleeping With My GPS: We just hope it's legal (in most states)

elizabeth: On my second wedding anniversary, I got a GPS from my husband. And he wasn’t even nervous about watching me unwrap it. He figured it wasn’t a vacuum cleaner, but he had on his full body armor under his clothes, just in case. Some people might find it a tad unromantic, but if you spent half of your life feeling lost in places that do not welcome strangers, getting lost and missing all the fun your friends were having at the best parties of the century, or being lost while your family issues amber alerts on you, then a GPS is freedom. Me and my GPS – the 21st century version of the Freedom Riders. If my GPS was a guy (and he could be short, with…no wait. That would be the only thing I would give up – I still do have standards), well, if my GPS was a guy, I would sleep with it on our first date. I’d even pay for dinner so I could take him home. That is how much I love my GPS. The doctor is ready to see you. Your copay for wanting to sleep with your GPS is $20.


 
Laurie: You know what? I will gladly throw in my GPS so you can have a ménage a trios. Don’t get me wrong; I’m very fond of Esmeralda. Prior to her acquisition, I had to write out directions very large with a Sharpie marker. My poor old eyes can’t see regular print without glasses, and I can’t drive with them. So I would tape these huge directions to my glove compartment door and try to remember which step I had just followed on my visually-challenged list.  I rushed to get a GPS when they started talking. Problem solved. Well sort of. Esmeralda doesn’t actually announce the street names. Instead she will tell you to turn in 1.7 miles. That measure of distance has no meaning to me. So now I’m trying to read the giant directions and the odometer and hopefully figure out where to turn. And inevitably I hear “Recalculating” which means I have disobeyed her directions and am now lost. If I had my druthers (a clever combination of “I’d rather” – don’t you wish you were born below the Mason/Dixon line?), having a human sit in the passenger seat and read my giant directions is my favorite navigational tool.
 
elizabeth: Now don’t get me wrong. The number of people I adore far outnumbers electrical equipment. I am not some cheap electrical groupie who is looking for approval and love and a place to crash. I have threatened my computer more than once (my computer anger control group is helping me work thru my misguided wrath), I have looked daily at my treadmill and prayed that it would implode and I have dealt with more than one hair dryer that has eaten my hair, but there is something to be said for better living with an electrical cord attached. And while all the before mentioned items have made me suffer, I do have one advantage over them. I can throw them out, push them down the stairs or yell a blue steak at them and they just sit there. Now I would never yell at Toots, my GPS. Yes, my husband bought me a female GPS. He’s no dummy. He has not caught on that when he’s not looking, I slip my GPS in between us. I am staying with the rationale that I sleep like a baby. But I know better. It’s love. Pure and simple.
 
Laurie: I don’t know. This still sounds a little unhealthy to me. Although I can’t confess to having an urge to sleep with my computer, I would gladly lug that baby into the bedroom every night if it would promise never to crash, show me the dreaded blue screen, or freeze up in any way, shape or form. And I guess I’d ask my DVR to join us. One-click taping, rewinding in the middle of a show I’m watching, pausing while I answer an annoying phone call and then picking up where I left off, a thousand high-definition channels, and On-Demand programs (don’t you love the concept of on demand? I am definitely a power freak) – what’s not to love?   I’ve definitely had sex that hasn’t been that fulfilling.
 
elizabeth: So is that the theme of our next blog??
 
So tell us, what piece of electrical equipment turns you on? (Insert groan).


 


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