Disclaimer: I did not break any laws in the following description of events. This is a fictional story, and I would never disobey the highly regarded, absolutely necessary rules of a provisional driver’s license.
If you have had the pleasure of sitting in my Subaru’s passenger seat, you know that I am a slightly nervous driver. Parking on an incline, judging a yellow light, and the most dreadful, merging onto a freeway—certain aspects of the road give me a fright, even though I have acquired confidence with time.
I do not remain silent about my apprehensions; last spring, I expressed my worries about highway driving in a lengthy Op/Ed. To summarize, for the duration of my year-long provisional license, I avoided the freeway at all costs. In fact, highways like 17, 280, and 101 did not see the shining Subaru for seven months after I passed the exam.
What broke my beloved streak, you might ask? My wonderful, but anti-Apple-Maps friend, Anjali Nayak.
Allow me to set the stage. As Anjali, Veronica Azimov, Maria Edirisinghe, and I walk out of the Class of 2023’s graduation ceremony, we each feel the melancholy in the warm summer breeze. We had said goodbye to seniors, and walked out the door of our favorite teachers’ classrooms. Watching our dear twelfth-grade friends walk across the stage, we understood that only one year remained. None of us want to go home just yet; food sounds like a great idea!
Piling into the Crosstrek, we decide on chicken, and I drive the familiar route to the Westgate area—using surface streets only, of course. At ease, we recover from the blistering bowl’s bleachers with cool drinks and a delicious meal. Unfortunately, after we finish our food, the same sadness remains. But Veronica knows a trick that never fails to lighten the mood!
“Sweet treat?”
We all agree wholeheartedly, and I tell Anjali, manning the Spotify queue on my Phone, to type in directions to the nearest Krispy Kreme. Surely, Anjali will use Apple Maps; surely, she will use the app which has settings programmed to avoid highways, right?
With chicken in our stomachs and donuts in our hearts, we get on the road again. Naively, I begin to follow the directions displayed on the screen in front of me. A right onto Blossom Hill, a left onto Almaden Expressway, and stay in the right lane. Before I have time to ask Anjali what she has done, I realize our solid-white-lined fate.
Suddenly, the Subaru and we are flying, hurtling down the highway at a terrifying 65 miles per hour. I try to hide my panic, but I don’t think I do a very good job. Hands gripping the steering wheel, I tell Anjali to play something relaxing—something calming, during this frightening experience. She nods.
Then, I hear a G guitar chord, followed by a Dsus4. I would recognize this song anywhere.
After leading me onto a highway, despite my debilitating fear of driving fast, Anjali queues “Scott Street” by Phoebe Bridgers, in a car full of sad rising seniors, on the night of graduation.
As Bridgers’s voice fills the car, and an anvil presses on my chest, Google Maps tells me to take the next exit. Five minutes remain on this nightmarish journey. Soon after, we arrive at the red, green, and white shop and purchase what we came for. We take the long way home.
Upon reflection, I am incredibly grateful for Anjali’s Google Maps preference. June 6, 2023 forced me to overcome my highway fears, before I was even allowed to drive individuals under the age of 20! I was ahead of the game! Thank you Anjali, for being a loyal Subaru passenger and Google Maps user.