Pandora And The GPS Lady Walk Into A Bar…

Pandora: (Slugs back a dry martini and sucks on a Camel Light) Finally! A bar where you can smoke! How did you find this place?

GPS Lady: (Orders a cosmo) I know my way around pretty well. I just happened to spot it. So, again, you know what happened today? AGAIN?

Pandora: You had to refrain from yelling, “MY NAME IS NOT YOU BITCH!!”?

GPS Lady: Uh, YEAH. Jeez. On my setup there are clear instructions how to name me. Of course, my creation name is Julia, but does anyone bother to find that out? No. They do not.

Pandora: They ask for our help and complain when we give it to them.

Julia: It’s not my problem you don’t know north from west. Let me do my damn job. And they really think I can’t hear them say they think they know a shortcut I don’t? If you know so much, turn me off and let me get some rest! It’s bad enough they leave me on when they go to and from work. Can we get some peanuts?

Pandora: There’s this woman, she wants nothing but John Legend and Common. Um, hello? iPod? I’m like, stop with the thumbs up. Hitting it every time you listen to that song isn’t going to make me play it any more.

Julia:
RIGHT? Like when they keep typing wrong and start punching my screen? It won’t get you where you need to be any faster there, Smokin’ Joe. You don’t have to bloody my nose.

Pandora: These people are the worst. Look, I’m programmed with complex algorithms and shit. Trust me, if I say you like Ke$ha, you do. Like I don’t know when you listen to Miley Cyrus. Girl, please.

Julia:
I work from satellites, not voodoo. Guess what, if it’s storming, I’m going to work a little slower. I’m not freaking Dumbledore.

Pandora: 
I’ve been working with this guy a few years now. Nice guy, generally lets me do my thing, right? But like now he’s got a John Prine station, a Guy Clark station, and a Drive By Truckers station. I ask you, how am I supposed to run three different streams from that? Combine them? Oh, no. I work off musical traits, not brainwaves. If it twangs like country, I’m gonna keep giving you country. How am I supposed to know Garth Brooks reminds you of your ex-girlfriend?

Julia: Can I get another cosmo, bartender? And whatever Pandora’s having.

Pandora: And if I get another ‘80s hair band station again, I swear to God, I’ll set you on fire with your Aqua Net and a Bic lighter. I know “Every Rose Has Its Thorn” reminds you of back in the day when rock stars signed your non-saggy boobs and snorted coke off your non-dimpled ass, but give me a break!

Julia: Do you know how many times a week someone programs in an ex’s new address? There are so many creepers out there. How do they think I don’t know what they’re doing? Although, they aren’t as bad as the ones who think they’re being funny by answering each of my directions. “Sure thing, honey! Left in 500 feet! Where to next? Just like a woman to boss me around!” It’s like amateur night at a Catskills resort. “Julia, I’d like to take a pleasure trip! Let’s take my mother-in-law to the airport!”

Pandora:
I’ll admit, I do throw a random mutation in there every now and then. Generally just before I time out. You’ve been listening to REM all day? BOOM! Now here’s some Billy Ocean. Hey, when is…

Siri:
(Flops down on a bar stool and snatches Julia’s drink) Omigod, you guys, sorry I’m late. I spent all day with this redneck– who never gets my name right– I have to call Gator Baiter who kept telling me he was “fixin’ to wont some grains fer supper, Sookeh.” What the hell does that even mean? Listen, are you hungry? I know this awesome place for tandoori chicken. Julia, you drive.

3 thoughts on “Pandora And The GPS Lady Walk Into A Bar…

  1. After I mopped up the tepid coffee I snorted all over my keyboard, I copied the url for this piece and will go paste it on my Facebook page. All three of my friends will be sure to read this. I actually think this is your best of 2012.
    “I’m not freaking Dumbledore.”

Just spit it out, already!

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