Waze Woman takes back seat in driving
We had a huge fight in the car the other day. As is often the case, it was over directions. I wanted to go one way; she wanted to go the other way. I’m sorry to say it got ugly.
It’s put a strain on our relationship, and I’m not sure we can recover. We had just begun to bond, and I was feeling a surge of love, and then it was all shattered.
It all began in Half Moon Bay on Friday evening at rush hour. I was driving back to our home in Marin County. I knew the way, obviously, but since it was rush hour, I decided I should be a man of the 21st century and check the traffic.
It was pretty much my first date with Waze, the navigational app for smartphones that is all the rage. I’d always used Google Maps, and we had a stable but unspectacular relationship. My Millennial children urged me to download Waze, which is supposedly a more detailed alternative.
I punched in my address and my new love sweetly told me it would take an hour and 10 minutes to get home. And then she told me not to go over the hill to Interstate 280 but to take the coastal route through Pacifica to avoid freeway traffic.
How lovely. The two of us (the Waze Woman and I) took a leisurely drive along the coast on a romantic evening, the waves crashing, the sun dropping in the sky … we were definitely beginning to bond.
Then it got better. Climbing out of Pacifica, she sweetly told me to take Skyline Boulevard along the majestic sand dunes, avoiding 280 altogether, and then hooking up with Sunset Boulevard, eliminating the chaos of 19th Avenue as well.
I was rapidly falling in love. I was born and raised in San Francisco and know the streets. I went to Lowell High School, which is in the Sunset. This was my neighborhood, but I might have mindlessly headed down 19th Avenue if it hadn’t been for my sweet-talking partner. She knew me.
She took me through Golden Gate Park, letting me know the names of streets (Crossover Drive, Transverse Drive) I’d used for decades but never identified. I knew where she was taking me, and I smiled at her knowingly and affectionately.
We were taking one of my prized shortcuts when the regular bridge approach is jammed — 25th Avenue and then through Sea Cliff and the Presidio. A gorgeous drive. I couldn’t have been happier with my new love.
As we came out of the park and saw the long stretch of 25th Avenue in front of us, things changed. Let me try to re-create our conversation as I remember it: Waze Woman: In 400 feet, take a right on Fulton Street. Me: What? Waze Woman: Take a right on Fulton Street. Me: No. I’m going down 25th Avenue, like we intended. Waze Woman: You just missed Fulton Street. In 900 feet, take a right on Balboa. Me: I don’t want to take a right on Balboa. I want to go through the Presidio. Waze Woman: Now you missed Balboa, you idiot. Why aren’t you listening to me? In ¼ mile, take a right on California. Me: I WILL NOT! YOU'RE THE IDIOT! I’m on 25th and can get to the bridge faster and with more scenery this way. Waze Woman: This is your last chance to obey me. In 900 feet, take a right on California or I’ll never speak to you again. Me: YOU’RE AN ARROGANT TWIT! I AM JOE SAN FRANCISCO! I GREW UP HERE. I’M GOING THROUGH THE PRESIDIO!
It was eerily quiet as I passed California Street. She didn’t even suggest turning right on Lake Street, knowing I wouldn’t obey. When we entered Sea Cliff, she meekly suggested turning right through the Presidio, but she clearly wasn’t happy, and neither was I.
As we approached the bridge, the silence was ominous. Our love affair was clearly over. I could have been sympathetic and made amends, but I was still upset. I decided to humiliate her.
She clearly didn’t know the best shortcut of all, where you turn left west of the bridge and then go through a tunnel under the toll plaza and come up on the east side and slide into the northbound lanes.
As we went through the little tunnel, I’m pretty sure I heard the Waze Woman say the following: “I have no idea where we are. You are a navigational genius. I will never doubt you again.”
Apology accepted.
My Millennial children urged me to download Waze, which is supposedly a more detailed alternative.