Man Meet Compass

Last evening, I had the pleasure of overhearing a ridiculous man say ridiculous things. Yes, this happens frequently, but this particular monologue warrants a nod from my fingertips.

It must first be said that the jabbering man was in fact doing his best to lure a member of the female species back to whatever place such a man inhabits. I imagine unread coffee table books and Ikea furniture.

The man was telling a story about his in-car navigation system. A few nights earlier he had been headed in one direction and the navigation device implied that he should make a U-turn. He followed instructions, drove a bit in the opposite direction, and was told by the device to make another U-turn. Retracing steps. Fair enough. I assumed the story would end there with a safe but slightly delayed arrival. It did not.

The man continued. He traveled in the direction he was originally headed and looked carefully for the elusive right turn. After a mile or so, the device once again told him he should turn around. He followed instructions. Another U-turn. He followed instructions. Another. He followed. At that point in telling the story the man said something like; "this damn thing had me driving in circles".

No sir. You allowed yourself to become so lazy and dependent on this flawed technology that your sense of reason became frustrated and abandoned you. You traded in your inner compass for a palm sized contraption made of metal and plastic. I must thank you for exponentially decreasing the market value of human instinct.

I imagine that this man will one day be surprised to learn that he's developed a brain tumor from constantly wearing one of those silly blue-tooth ear pieces. By constantly I don't mean while driving or doing something that requires a 'hands free' phone call. I mean he more than likely keeps it in his ear at the dinner table and at the movie theatre.

I take my hat off at the dinner table. Take that ridiculous thing out of your ear. There are no important calls coming. I promise you.

I digress.

In short, the man realized he had entered the wrong street name for his destination, the woman did not leave with him, and I've got first claim on his clothes when I find him wandering in a post-apocalyptic forest somewhere, praying for his battery dead navigation device to suddenly power up and guide him home. At least if he's on a call he'll have his hands free to undress.

Let's just hope I'm not hungry.