Can you imagine if this really happened?

A woman picks up her rental car in a city far from her home.

Agent: "Did you still want the GPS unit with your car?"

Hypothetical woman: "That would be great."

Agent: "Okay, here are your keys and GPS. Enjoy. You car is in stall C4."

HW: "Great, thanks." In her mind, Hey, nice car.

The GPS is hooked up and the address of her hotel is entered.

HW: "Stinkin' Lewis. The thing talks to you. Fantastic. How hard can this be?"

GPS: "Drive 0.2 miles. Take a right on Harbor Drive."

HW: "Harbor Drive? Harbor Drive? Was that the road I just passed?"

GPS: "Recalculating. Drive 0.6 miles. Take a right on McClellan."

HW: Half in her mind, half out loud, "Okay McClellan. That should be coming up. Wait, did it say right? I need to be in the right lane. I can't get in the right lane with all of those cars in my way. Where did all of those cars come from?"

GPS: "Recalculating. Recalculating. Drive 0.4 miles. Take a left on Merrimac."

HW: "Okay, I'm in the left lane. Good start. Merrimac? It should be coming up. What kind of a weird turn? Is that a true left? Do I turn here? That's not an actual turn..."

GPS: "Turn left on Merrimac now."

HW: "Now? I just passed that weird turn. Does "now" mean two seconds ago? What the...?"

GPS: "Recalculating. Recalculating."

HW: Hysterical laughing—which seems to get worse each time "recalculating" is repeated.

Forty-five minutes pass with the same conversation happening over and over, although the street names change accordingly.

And then, almost an hour later...

GPS: "Drive 0.2 miles. Take a left on Harbor Drive."

HW: "Harbor Drive? Looks familiar. As does that Avis car rental sign. Weird. Hey, I just made a left on Harbor Drive. I think I'm getting the hang of this thing."

GPS: "Travel 0.3 miles. Take a left onto Highway 90. Oh, and you have now taken longer than any other human being alive to correctly follow a single direction. For the sake of everyone, please return your rental car immediately."

Twenty minutes later, hypothetical woman arrives at her hotel. Just in time to enter the address of the first home she will be viewing. Granted it should only be twenty-five minutes away, but she only has an hour to get there, and being a direction expert, thinks she will play it safe.

Note to those thoroughly embarrassed for this pretend woman that cannot follow simple directions—no more mistakes for the rest of the day. Even if it took a lot of talking to herself to accomplish. She is much better at this direction business outside the city. And in her imaginary defense, three words...red-eye flight.

Oh, and if I knew this hypothetical woman, I would ask her what she thought about this far away place she is visiting. And I'm pretty sure she would tell you it is beyond incredible. And that she cannot believe how fast she has fallen in love with it. But that she has not taken any pictures of the beautiful place, even though she has wanted to a hundred times, because if she stops, she might mess up her GPS. And end up at Harbor Drive. And that would just be plain embarrassing.