My husband takes instruction from the GPS girl, not from me.
He puts her on before his seatbelt
to make sure he finds the way
between our driveway and the street.
He doesn’t think she’s bossy
when she tells him to take
Palm instead of Elm,
or U-turn back to where he started
in the middle of the road.
She doesn’t get upset when he is late
or cranky when he’s lost,
just continues speaking sweetly
so he senses her support.
If she says left and I say right,
he tells me to be quiet.
She doesn’t know about
construction by the park
that will coat his just-washed
vehicle with dust
or that Doheny is one way
till Monday on account of
the gay pride parade.
In my next car, I want a manly GPS
who talks to me in Gauloises-sexy French.
It doesn’t matter
I don’t speak the language —
I’m not really looking for directions.
Paula Rudnick is a former television writer and producer who has spent the past 30 years as a volunteer for nonprofit organizations.