Bitchy Siri Wayfinder

"Siri, where the fuck is Johnny's Fried Chicken Shack?" 

 Danny barked the request into the vacant space in front of his head. He stared out the windshield at a line of tail lights, one hand on the the steering wheel. 

In the other, he held his phone horizontally pointed at his mouth so that the sound waves of his voice could more easily penetrate the tiny holes he assumed were the device's microphone.
 

"In 1.5 miles, pray to your creator and take the left at the next intersection. It doesn't look good."

"Come again?"

"Estimated travel time is 7 minutes, 30 seconds if you're lucky, but you might not make it at all," Siri added.

Siri's voice was interrupted by a sudden rustle, a sudden clunk.

"Fuck, I dropped the phone," Danny snapped. "Hold on, which left?"

In the passenger seat, Jenny extended her neck to look over her knees at the floor pan. "I didn't hear what Siri said. Where'd it fall?" Jenny asked.

"Goddammit, it's wedged behind the seat!" Danny snapped.

Jenny unbuckled her seat belt, wrestled her large handbag to her feet, and blew away the fuzzy strands of her puffy coat that tickled her face. She twisted her torso between the bucket seats to retrieve the phone. Danny leaned to his left to let her through.

"Siri, which left?" he yelled.

 "You missed it, just like I knew you would, Siri said, voice muffled. Let's try this again."

"You know I don't eat meat, Danny!" Jenny snapped, still rummaging in the back.

Danny rolled his eyes. 

"Siri, what's near here?" he said.

"She likes that gluten-free place you hate... Ancho's Diner. That's probably your only option at this point."

"Oh, I like that place!" Jenny said, ass, skirt and high heels obscuring the rear view mirror.

Danny did hate that place. Bland flavors that somehow gave him heartburn and made him gassy.

"How do I find it?" he said.

"What's the point? You'll just get into an argument with the waiter. Jenny will embarrass you by getting drunk and exposing her privates, and then you'll wipe vomit out of her hair with a paper napkin like you did at that hipster Argentinian bistro last month."

Jenny twisted in the rear view mirror to glare at Danny. 

"Oh shit, Danny! I forgot about that. I never found my debit card that night."

The traffic broke and the tail lights extinguished, replaced with the hopeful sensation of escape. 

"Siri-ously sick of this shit, Siri," Danny said.  He smiled to himself at his undiscovered cleverness.

"In a half mile, take the 20th Street on ramp," Siri said.  "Merge into the left lane and accelerate to 100 miles per hour. Next, open the driver-side door and jump from the vehicle."