I had a dream about an hour ago (shut up, I'm on break, I can sleep until 11 if I feel like it) in which ladysprite, Truss, a favorite character from TV, and I were attempting to get to some scheduled occasion (movie, play, Klingon opera, I don't know; just that we had tickets to see it). I think the car we were driving was mine (it was one of the new Fiat 500s with, presumably, the optional TARDIS interior, since it had me and three other people in it), but ladysprite wanted to drive because they installed a neuroprocessor with a GPS widget built in while they were doing her bionic spine replacement and she hadn't actually tried it out yet.
You know how people's GPS navigation devices will occasionally lead them astray, causing them to drive off boat ramps or attempt to get onto the Interstate at a place where there's actually just a flyover, not an interchange? Now imagine how much worse that is when the navigation system is a cerebral implant designed to have a "seamless user experience", which means that instead of providing a map and spoken directions, it just makes you think you know where you're going. We ended up following a railway line instead of a road for cars. One equipped with all sorts of bizarre automatic countermeasures intended to prevent people from driving cars alongside it. Fortunately, it turns out ladysprite learned to drive from the same people who taught James Bond, and the Fiat had a number of interesting abilities not usually found in small, cheap Italian automobiles (a maglev mode, for example, which was useful for bypassing the pop-up Severe Tire Damage spikes). And to be fair to her cybernetic GPS, the route it suggested did get us to the venue we wanted in plenty of time for whatever occasion it was.