Day: January 26, 2022

If You Give The Human Female a Car…, Part II

The human female has called one of the collision repair auto shops recommended by the dealership. She is speaking to what sounds to be a nice Russian man, trying to explain to him just what is going on with the door locks on the car.

Aha! Кажется, у нас назначена встреча на завтра утром, хотя они очень заняты.

Uh oh. The human female is thinking. This is never a good thing. Here is her reasoning: If there is a door sensor problem because the door has become a bit pushed in, then building up the door a bit so that it contacts the body panel sooner or harder as the door is closed might fix it. And if that is something that can be done without taking the car to Sergei and Company, so much the better. All right. It’s you talking, which ordinarily means gibberish is happening, but I can see how that makes sense. But just how are you intending to build up the body panel?

Sweet Sif on a Cracker! Human male, come and get your woman, because I think she has finally lost it.

She has exited the house carrying a spoonful of peanut butter and a strong magnet.

Whiskey. Tango. Foxtrot. She has opened the driver’s side car door and–I kid you not–has applied peanut butter to the door-is-closed sensor.

How on Midgard is that going to—

Ooohhhh. Now I see what she is doing. She has shut the door and opened it again, and now there is a dot of peanut butter on the door where it contacts the sensor.

Now she is wiping the peanut butter off the spot and sticking on the big, chunky magnet, effectively making the door thicker!

But does it work? Pushing the lock button on the fob. . . Click! Tug. Tug. Tug. Tug. All the doors are locked! Mortal, you may not be as stupid as you look after all!

She is so proud of herself that I’m sure she’s going to be insufferable for a week. She’s even calling the collision shop to cancel her appointment. She’s not speaking to her helpful but harried Russian comrade, and the fellow who answered the phone is asking her with whom she spoke yesterday. And he’s laughing, because apparently everyone says the guy sounds Russian but

هو في الواقع من لبنان

I can’t believe she actually pulled it off. I can’t let this stand. I’m going to have to get involved.

(later)

All hail Loki, god of comeuppances. I really couldn’t let her have fixed everything so easily. She has taken the car out this afternoon to go do some work at the food bank, and just now when she got out of the car, I made sure the seat belt retractor was a little s l o w, and the door shut on the buckle tab. Ehehehe! Now she knows why her door is a little pushed in just there, because I make that happen a lot!

The peanut-butter-scented magnet is still in place. Will the doors still lock? No! That one door is back to being petulant and wonky! Ehehehehe! Now how smart do you feel?

Oh, and be sure and take all your belongings into the food bank because this is a sketchy neighborhood and your vehicle is unsecured.

(later still)

She is home from the food bank and is determined to deal with the door once and for all. It is bitterly cold today, windy and threatening sleet, so I am greatly amused as I watch her fumble once more with peanut butter and a magnet. Heh. It’s not working today, is it?

Wait, what is she rummaging in the garage for? Mortal, just what do you intend to do with a coping saw? Isn’t that a little drastic?

voop-a, voop-a, voop-a. Silly woman has cut herself a three-inch piece of 1″ x1″ wood (an old tree stake, I believe) and wedged it into the malfunctioning door handle so that the locking tab cannot spring free.

But what’s the other magnet doing in there? Oh, just taking up a little more room. That is the kludgiest kludge job I have ever seen! Did it work?

Thunk. It appears to.

For now. . .

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