GPS sucks. Or at least mine does.

Driving is one of those annoyingly essential skills that I can't seem to master despite how hard I focus or how much I practice. I hate to reinforce the stereotype for all my Asian sistahs out there but I admit that I am a female Asian who should probably not be allowed behind the wheel of a tricycle, much less a vehicle.

The thing is, my problem with driving is completely mental. I can perform the basic functions of operating a car just fine (except parallel parking, U-turns, and turning on my lights at night). But my lack of confidence translates into nervous, panicking decision-making.

You know when you walk into a test that you know you're not prepared for? Suddenly every innocuous little bubble in the scantron starts to look like a portal of death. Your eyes flash over questions and answer choices at lightning speed but you don't understand any of the words and your hand is shaking and you're about to vom and everyone else is just scribbling or bubbling away happily and you consider feigning unconsciousness to get out of the situation without totally humiliating yourself?

That's how I start feeling every time I turn on the ignition. "Dear society, here comes fail."

Last night I had a particularly scarring driving experience - this time involving GPS. I've never actually used a GPS because I rarely drive anywhere that I haven't been to at least four thousand times before. So I was pretty excited to have a friendly voice tell me where to turn and map out my route to a friend's house that's located in the heart of Potomac, a 20-minute drive. "I'll be driving like a pro in no time with this handy little roadmaster!" I thought gleefully as I backed out my driveway (narrowly missing my mom's minivan). I grossly miscalculated that prediction.

First, the GPS took like 10 minutes to wake up. And I was freaking out for that entire 10 minutes. "I'm supposed to turn left here, right? If I keep going I'm gonna crash into that house! Please say turn left please say turn left pleaaaaaase oh god" Mind you, this was all in my neighborhood. I kept just stopping in the middle of the street, panicking and shaking the GPS like a polaroid picture. "WORK FASTER, SLAVE!"

When it finally beeped to life, I was sitting in a driveway about 500 yards from my house, clutching the steering wheel and sobbing. Well not really but you know what I mean. I continued on my way, wary of my new possible foe or friend and listening as hard as I could for directions. The GPS worked okay. I mean, I already knew most of the way to my friend's house. But whenever the GPS didn't confirm the next turn I would start to freak out. At several points I was literally talking to it.

"I'm supposed to turn here, right?"
Silence.
"Here, RIGHT?????"
"Turn right at Piney Meetinghouse Road."
"Thank you!!!!!!!!!!!"

Finally, I turned onto the road where my friend lived. The GPS told me to keep going about half a mile in, which I did, and then it said "Arrived at desination." I looked around and there were NO HOUSES near me. Just some roadkill and a golf course. I wound up driving around that neighborhood for about 20 more minutes and stopping to make several frantic phone calls before I finally found his house, an hour after I left mine.

When I got into my car again later that night and saw the shiny GPS trying to beep to life again, I unplugged it and threw it into the passenger's seat foot area. I wasn't taking any of its crap anymore.

I was still a bad driver, but in the very likely case of an accident, I wanted to make sure at the end of the day that it was me, and not a stupid GPS device, that ultimately screwed myself over.