Sunday, 18 January 2015

Another argument with the sat nav

17 December 2014, 3 pm

My final rendezvous today is with my mother, who is waiting for me somewhere else in Derbyshire with her suitcase packed and the milk cancelled, in the hope that I will whisk her off to a Christmas of domestic bliss down in the Wess Curntry.  Obviously she is losing her memory, because we have never had a Christmas of domestic bliss in our house even the year when I gave everyone a Cornish pasty.

On the way to my mother’s house, I have an argument with the sat nav.  It tells me to bear left but I am in the right-hand lane, so it shows me a picture of me careering into a blank yonderness of non-roads and then into a reservoir.  I feel this is an unhelpful image.  I shout at the sat nav to get a grip.  Instead it does the exact opposite, bouncing off its dashboard cushion and into my lap, from where it continues to shout muffled instructions into my thigh.  The minute I get a hand free, I throw it onto the passenger seat, where it shouts muffled instructions into what’s left of the mince pie.

My mother offers me a sandwich when I arrive.  I say no thanks I have already eaten a mince pie and half a sat nav.

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