Maps can’t talk back to you

1 07 2008

(Unless, of course, it is The Map of Dora the Explorer fame; when HE talks back, my ears bleed.)

Last week I went through this whole song and dance with our insurance company in order to find a doctor here in Pennsylvania where Oliver could be seen for his 6-month check-up. (I should have known better; I never dance unless I’ve had a drink, and I don’t sing unless I’m drunk.)

I finally found a doctor’s office that would see him. In Ohio. Yesterday was Oliver’s appointment (he did well; 75th percentile for both height and weight, shots in both of his meaty little thighs), and we made the trip out to the middle of nowhere Ohio with the help of the GPS in my mom’s phone (whom I lovingly refer to as Phylicia Rashad) (Phylicia seemed like a name I could say in a positive manner, like when she brings us to our destination without a hitch, as well as a name that I could snarl well, like if she forgot to tell me to take a left at some crucial point; I found that in the latter circumstances, she needed a middle name, too, and thus the Rashad was added, because does any other name go with Phylicia? No.) (This is not weird, is it? Everyone names their GPS voice, right? Right?). Phylicia got us to the doctor’s office okay, but then I guess we pushed her to her limit by asking her to find this little store my mom had heard about, which was another 15ish miles away. I was actually hoping to find something fun/cute to add to my Pay It Forward prize at this store. (As well as something fun/cute for myself, too, I won’t lie.)

We had almost reached our destination when we found our path blocked by a “Road Closed” sign. Phylicia Rashad had led us to a dead end! More specifically, to a bridge that was no longer. She’d taken us to a drop-off in the lake, actually. So we turned around. Phylicia informed us that she was recalculating our route. “You BETTER recalculate, woman!” we told her. She responded a few minutes later with a new direction. Followed by another… and another. “Is dis da jungle, Mommy?” Ethan asked as we bumped down an unpaved road in the middle of some woods. A few moments later we realized we’d been led straight back to the cliff!

This time we ignored her directions and claims of “recalculation.” We found our way closer to the store, and then Phylicia finally caught on and started providing us with correct directions. After what seemed like hours, and after scolding Phylicia Rashad mercilessly, we found the store. The first thing we saw when we got there was a sign that read “Closed Sunday and Monday”. It was Monday. I know this was not Phylicia’s fault, but this knowledge does not stop me from blaming her.

So we gave up and decided to get some dinner. Phylicia told us there was a pizza/deli place nearby. We drove up to it and, lo and behold, it was CLOSED. Apparently the middle of nowhere Ohio is closed on Mondays, make sure you keep that in mind the next time you DON’T visit it.

In the end, we drove 40 miles away for shots and McDonald’s. Phylicia is currently on my List, and I am currently covered in a feverish, fussy baby. And I never did end up shopping for the Pay It Forward prize. To whomever wins my contest: Don’t be surprised if you open up a box of Phylicia Rashad.



3 responses

2 07 2008

Thought these kinda things only happened to me. Glad I’m not the only one who can spend an entire day out and about and only get one thing done. This story made me laugh so hard, I love how you named your GPS. Hope Oliver is feeling better.

2 07 2008

I personally think that Phylicia Rashad should be the new bad name. As in, “Don’t make me go all Phylicia Rashad on you.” I think it’s a grand idea.

3 07 2008
With any luck, I’ll be PIFing for the next 7 years « Sublime Bedlam

[…] my way down. Except, somewhere along the line, I don’t know, I must have stopped to scold Phylicia Rashad (which, um, by the way, Phylicia, if you’ve Googled yourself and stumbled upon this (I would […]

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