My Technology Fail
I'm not the most savvy person when it comes to technology, despite that all my work-related endeavors involve it on some degree. The best way to explain my knowledge is I know just enough to get me in trouble, but not necessarily out of it.
The Set Up
Our town has a parking ban in the winter that runs until April or whenever the city sees fit. This means that there is no on-street parking between the hours of 11 and 6. We have two off-street parking spaces for our cars in the driveway, our upstairs neighbors one in the garage and one in the driveway. This leaves a phantom space in front of the garage, reserved for the landlord to pick up landscaping equipment.
The phantom space was used for the first time two nights ago as an additional parking spot. One of my sisters-in-law stayed with us for a couple of days. So did her car. And since I'm the first one out the door during the week, I was the Chosen One to the move the car.
Enter the Fail
SIL's car is a newer model and still has that showroom shine. It also has a car alarm, something my cars never had. (With the exception of The Ghettomobile, but that was so old school, you had to turn it off on the steering wheel.) Zombie-Hubby confirmed that all I needed to do was press the unlock button on the fob. That's when I noticed there was no car key.
Hubby (pointing to fob): That's the key.
Me (looking for secret compartment): Where?
Hubby: You unlock the car, and then start it with the button.
I study the fob for a button that says 'engine start,' but can't find one.
Hubby: It's in the car. You press the button on the dashboard after you press the brake.
Me: Riight.
We played our special version of 'Who's on First?' for a few more seconds before I leave. Unlocking the car was a success. I find the button, 'LOCK' is lit up and then disappears. I press the start button; the radio comes on. I press the button again and 'ON' is lit up, but no engine start. I press the brake and press the button again.
I call Hubby. "What am I doing wrong?"
Hubby comes out barefoot and saves the day. I had pressed the parking brake instead of the actual brake. What took me ten minutes to screw up took Hubby not even a minute.
The Set Up
Our town has a parking ban in the winter that runs until April or whenever the city sees fit. This means that there is no on-street parking between the hours of 11 and 6. We have two off-street parking spaces for our cars in the driveway, our upstairs neighbors one in the garage and one in the driveway. This leaves a phantom space in front of the garage, reserved for the landlord to pick up landscaping equipment.
The phantom space was used for the first time two nights ago as an additional parking spot. One of my sisters-in-law stayed with us for a couple of days. So did her car. And since I'm the first one out the door during the week, I was the Chosen One to the move the car.
Enter the Fail
SIL's car is a newer model and still has that showroom shine. It also has a car alarm, something my cars never had. (With the exception of The Ghettomobile, but that was so old school, you had to turn it off on the steering wheel.) Zombie-Hubby confirmed that all I needed to do was press the unlock button on the fob. That's when I noticed there was no car key.
Hubby (pointing to fob): That's the key.
Me (looking for secret compartment): Where?
Hubby: You unlock the car, and then start it with the button.
I study the fob for a button that says 'engine start,' but can't find one.
Hubby: It's in the car. You press the button on the dashboard after you press the brake.
Me: Riight.
We played our special version of 'Who's on First?' for a few more seconds before I leave. Unlocking the car was a success. I find the button, 'LOCK' is lit up and then disappears. I press the start button; the radio comes on. I press the button again and 'ON' is lit up, but no engine start. I press the brake and press the button again.
I call Hubby. "What am I doing wrong?"
Hubby comes out barefoot and saves the day. I had pressed the parking brake instead of the actual brake. What took me ten minutes to screw up took Hubby not even a minute.