How Many Americans Does it Take to Start a Car?
….with a push button start?
1. My mother looks for the key fob to the car and hands them to me.
That’s ONE person
2. I toss the key somewhere without thought and push the start button (because aren’t we all so cool
and technologically advanced - but the car doesn’t start.
That’s TWO people.
3. The dashboard - ooh, sorry, I mean "Control Center
” - warns that the battery is low and to place the key up to the start button. I fumble around looking for the key, give it a go, but tthat fails too
Time waisted but still just two Americans are needed .
4. I recall that there is a key in the fob.
I fiddle around looking for something to open the thing, finally commit myself to sheer force, break a nail, and finally get the fob open….
Tick tick, tick goes the clock
5. Ready to insert the key, I look for the insertion slot but there is not one to be found
Getting irritated at this point.
6. Reach for the glove compartment and after a few more wasted minutes find that the insertion point is behind a button tthat looks like this - and is nowhere near the expected location:
7. Attempt to pop the thing off….nails, coin, nail clipper, pen cap…it’s not budging.
8. Go back inside and ask my son, who happens to be standing there, if I may borrow his multi-tool. There is the expected snickering from him as to why I don’t carry tools with me, but at least a kind offer to help. I declined as this kind of task is good for me.
9. I decide it is bet to take the other car to go get new batteries. After scratching and scaring the fob to get it open and to identify the battery type
. I go into the store and a woman asks me if I need help locating anything. I mention batteries.
FOUR, adding a kind store clerk
to the count
10. I scan the display but, of course, no battery in the size I need.
At this point I am wondering why I never read any good books on how to put curses on car manufacturers
11. I ask a worker if there might be any more in the back.
Ladies and gentlemen, that is FIVE.
12. With no luck, I am off to the next store where they have them in stock. In the checkout lane kind young lady behind the register asks me how my day is going. “Fine,” I lie, smiling.
That is now SIX people, five US dollars, and one lie, which puts my very soul at risk
13. I go back to the house where my husband has since arrived, looking smart and crisp in uniform, while I look like I've been run over by a car. He takes over the rest of the operation, which for him takes only a matter of seconds, while I grumble over his should about men with their over-engineering and that we should henceforward only purchase sensible cars made before 1990. He shrugs his shoulders and makes the offhand but life-endangering statement, “It’s really not THAT big of a deal.”
SEVEN….well, assuming he lives at this point.
14. He and I go back inside, where he reports, “All fixed” to my mother who proceeds to gush appreciation - TO HIM
The final cost and tally of using a push-button start?
7 Americans, $5 dollars, forty-five minutes, the consequences of breaking of a commandment, martyrdom when it came to my mother, and near murder charges for nearly killing my husban
I just want my keys back.