A while ago I wrote about how I have a tendency to humanize the sat nav. We have two cars. One car has an elderly Tom Tom sat nav which has been affectionately known for years as Gladys. The other car, the newer car, or, Tank II, as I call it (a C4 Grand Picasso for those of you that care about cars), has its own sat nav. This sat nav came with the car. This sat nav is built in. It is much more glamorous that good old reliable Gladys. I prefer Gladys. Is it bad to admit that? I know how Gladys works. I know which buttons to press to get her going. She has helped me out of some serious pickles. I feel very loyal to Gladys. She is a good friend. The new sat nav is, however, far sexier than Gladys.
The new sat nav doesn’t run out of battery. She can go on forever. She doesn’t constantly ask me if I want to connect to my computer (what is that about?). She has a better screen. She is there all the time (you don’t have to stick her into a sucker thing on the windscreen).
Gladys, as well as a Tom Tom sat nav, is a part-time librarian. She has grey curly hair. She’s kind. She likes cats. She wears M&S clothes and tan tights. She loves books. She reads voraciously. She listens to Radio 4. The new sat nav, by contrast, has shoulder length, slightly curvy, brown hair. She is in her mid-40s (like me) yet she is far, far more attractive. She is tanned and wears ‘hardly noticeable’ makeup. She sports round tinted sunglasses, even in winter. She smokes (and this has given her her sexy gravel voice). She likes cocktails, especially mohitos. She loves to go out with the girls for cocktails. She pops into ‘town’ (what posh people call London) for a night out. In the morning there is nothing she likes better than a proper coffee, a cigarette and a croissant. She certainly doesn’t eat Shreddies or toast. Her style is designer. She likes to go to Cheshire Oaks (but wouldn’t admit it). She wears muted colours. She likes black and she looks amazing in just jeans and a black top and high-heeled boots. She always wears heels. She never wears flats. She is much admired by men, and feared by women. She is always turning men down. Women are jealous of her. They don’t understand her. She’s dark. She has secrets. She’s definitely a mistress rather than a wife. She turns heads. Gladys, sadly, doesn’t.
When I asked the rest of the family how they imagined the sat nav they seemed rather bemused by the question. My husband simply responded that she was a red car. They couldn’t understand how I could construct a whole person and personality from a voice. They were very amused by my description of her.
Is it so strange that I have done this? She doesn’t yet have a name. But I suspect she would be a Caroline. Yes, she’s a Caroline. Caroline tells me regularly about traffic congestion on the A674 near Chorley or the M5 junction 15. She is useful. But she’s no Gladys. I love Gladys more. Sorry, Caroline.