Chapter Three: The GPS

I don't know if you've ever realized this, but to weird people, weird things are completely normal. This can be quite problematic because it can leave you wondering just how normal you are…or aren't. You could doing something completely natural to you, such as digging up female corpses in a cemetery to see which one is the most attractive to you, only to have the hottest one accuse of not only being incredibly sexist, but weird also being weird. You're then left with nothing to do but to try to explain to yourself, all the while the beautiful women are staring at you with their half-decayed faces.

You could be doing something else of course, such as wearing a silly hat in a French café, or singing 70's rock tunes in church, or proposing to someone much younger than you. To you, there is no taboo, but you still have to tell the waitress that snails go down your throat easier this way, and you still have to tell the preacher that this is your method of spirituality, and you still have to tell the district attorney to mind his own damn business. True love knows no bounds.

These aren't my thoughts necessarily. They're just examples.

My point is, when you're driving down to New Mexico with people like Lilith and Jerome, it gives you a lot of time to think things over.

We were finally in the state after a long week. Sometimes we had slept in the minivan, but most of the time we had stayed in cheap hotels. You know, the real shady ones. The ones with body parts on the floor. We didn't have a lot of money, but the local prostitutes who ran the town arranged for us to stay for free. They were nice. They believed in our mission. It's a little known fact that prostitutes respect men with visions. Men like me.

Anyways, a few hours into New Mexico, the worst thing happened. My GPS broke.

Well, that's not entirely accurate.

Jerome broke it. I hate to present him to you in a negative light, but it was really all his fault. Now don't judge him too hard. You have never been half as angry as Jerome was. His face was bright red. His black hairs were all sticking straight up. His beads of sweat were as big as marbles.

I'm still not sure what he was so pissed about, so I'll just type out what he said. I'll just edit out the swear words. I hate swearing.

"That stupid woman should stop telling us around! Always opening her mouth! She should know her place!"

The GPA just has a female voice," I said.

"That's no excuse! She should shut up! Just shut up!"

"Jerome, chill out," Lilith sighed.

"No! I won't! She should chill out! She's been bossing Peter around for the past seven days! She should know her place!"

"And what is a woman's place, just out of curiosity?" I asked.

Jerome had to think about this one for a minute. His eyeballs turned upward. His fists loosened. For a minute I thought he had calmed down. When he came back to us he spoke lowly:

"Women should be aware of men's pockets."

Lilith cocked her head at him. "What?"

Jerome was as cool as a cucumber. "Whenever a man wants to spend time with a woman, he should just pull her out of his pocket. When he tires of her, he should just put her back in. This woman does not know when her time is to go back into the pocket."

"That's incredibly sexist," Lilith said.

"Would it help if I gave it a different voice?" I asked.

In a flash, all of Jerome fury returned to him. "SHUT UP!"

And with that, he shot his fist out as hard as he could.

Now, Jerome was sitting right behind Lilith. The GPS was on the windshield right in front of me. Jerome was nowhere near it. Nevertheless, his knuckles it up, shattering it into a million pieces.

Our only guide was gone, and we were on a narrow road in the middle of the desert.

I would have kicked Jerome out right then and there if I didn't feel somewhat responsible for him.