The Car

I think of myself as a capable woman. But I do have a very large chink in my kevlar.

THE CAR.

I really don't know anything much about cars, and that is how I like it. My concept of a car is that it is a thing that gets me from point A to point B in more or less comfort and safety. Driving is another matter.
Now, I do enjoy driving like a bat out of hell. That's fun. So I look for cars with the power to go fast.


It is an overwhelming annoyance to fill the tank with gas, let alone remember and pay attention to a maintenence schedule. So I tend to drive cars with flashing signals to tell me when the gas is low, when I need to change the oil, and have a 911 button, connected to a navigation system and a concierge service.If the little bugger doesn't work right, I am very put out. Like this weekend.

Believe you me, this was the icing on the cake! I returned from Denver from a lovely wedding. The day started with me waking up in the Mountain Time Zone a couple of hours earlier than needed. I lollygagged and finally got to the parking lot of the airport hotel, ready to scoot to the gas station and then turn in my rental car.

DEAD AS A DOORNAIL!

Not good. Try the darn thing again. No luck. Call AVIS and tell them THEY HAVE A PROBLEM. I told them where to collect their miserable junk heap, not to charge me for the day or the gas, and tossed the keys the front desk clerk and boarded the shuttle.

Forward past a long flight to Tampa and then a four hour delay. I had a good book,but it was getting toward the end of the book, and I'm on Weight Watchers, so I couldn't just drown my boredom in chocolate.
Well, after finally getting back to my little home airport, collected my suitcase and tromped off to the garage with my hi tech open the door remotely clicker.

After a bit of wandering late at night alone in a parking garage I found my little darlin and click........click.......not a GD thing happened. Quick phone call to the daugher in law who gives me the emergency number to call for the extra $199/ year I pay to get me out of this kind of trouble.

OK we'll attempt a remote door unlock. Just pick a time from 5 minutes to 17.5 hours from now for us to try it. This is not a joke, they want you to pick a number from out of a hat to ATTEMPT a remote unlock. Now when I got this car and was told that the assistance # could remotely unlock your door, they didn't tell me about this little piece of news #1 it doesn't always work #2 you have to hang around to wait for it . They explained the longer that they got to unlock the door remotely the more likely it would be successful. Well, there I am in this garage with a target painted on my forehead, late at night by myself, and they are asking if I am in a safe place.

OK I'll give you 30 minutes.

During these 30 minutes in 90 degree heat at 10pm, I am phoning a man I am seeing. My mind is saying

WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU, and WHY HAVE YOU LET THIS HAPPEN TO ME?

He is a man, who ultimately is responsible for all mechanical things, and I am taking this personally.


In realtiy I am describing my tale of woe. He lives in California and comes to see me in Florida about once a month. This just plays into my concerns he is not really going to move here, or he would have been here to run interference in life for me. OK, I have now joined the dark side. Women who want a man to take care of them. That's why I was married. This is about the only time I really really really miss being married.
On the other hand, my first husband told me to read the manual when I broke down about 50 miles from home. That was a day I realized the marriage was doomed. So I don't have a good track record with men and THE CAR.

The upshot is that I marched off, took a taxi home, got the extra clicker/key and begged a ride back to the airport, where I put putted back home. I ususally don't do drama, but there are exceptions.


Until next time................