adventures in alarm technology
May. 3rd, 2007 10:10 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
janegodzillaIt amazes me how one of my co-workers can turn every sentence into an implied insult. The most innocuous things become thinly veiled barbs against the other people we work with, and it would be kind of impressive if she didn't bug me so much. As negative about my job as I am on livejournal, I keep it friendly and cheerful at work. But this girl...daaaaamn. It's amazing she can talk with so much venom in her.
Eh, whatever. I'm in a vaguely good mood today, mostly because my feet are warm and I just finished my coffee. Coffee + warm feet = good times.
So I took the streetcar and the train over to Mom's building yesterday -- normally, she picks me up because we commute together (she works on the other side of the Willamette, so it's crazy-convenient), but she had a thing and thought she'd be done by the time I made it over there, so I hoofed it down to the streetcar stop and spent an enjoyable 45 minutes doing the public transportation thing.
I mean it, too. I love Portland's public transit system. It's ridiculously easy to get around, fareless square is HUGE, and you can't beat the people-watching. While I waited for my train I listened to a man play the violin on the streetcorner, and it was beautiful. I wish I'd had some cash on me -- I always try to give to street musicians.
Unfortunately, Mom wasn't done with her meeting by the time I got to the parking garage, but I'd borrowed the extra set of car keys just in case. It was just as cold inside the car as it was outside, so I thought I'd turn the car on and run the heater a bit, just to warm up. I turn the key, and...the fucking car alarm goes off.
Let me tell you something about the car alarm on the Honda. It defies all explanation. It's a car alarm on steroids. It's a car alarm on speed. It's a car alarm on fucking METH, IT'S THAT AWFUL. There's no earthly way for me to accurately convey through text what the car alarm sounds like, but just imagine the loudest, most horrible noise you can think of, multiply that by TEN, and you still won't even come close.
So the lights start flashing and the car goes, "BRAAAAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEENK! BRAAAAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEENK! BRAAAAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEENK! BRAAAAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEENK!" and I scream and flail around and try to start the car, but all THAT does is make the alarm LOUDER AND MORE HIGH-PITCHED, so I try unlocking the car and re-locking the car and opening all the doors and banging my head against the steering wheel and NONE of it works, at which point I tried calling Mom but her cell reception is off in the building* and finally I just got out of the car and screamed, "FUCK YOU, CAR! FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU WHY WON'T YOU STOP ALREADY FUCK YOUUUUUU!"
At this point, a car pulled up next to me in the garage, and a very nice gentlemen in glasses said, "Is everything all right?"
Of course, I couldn't hear him at first because of the alarm. Most of the ensuing conversation was conducted at the top of our lungs. "NO!" I yelled. "THIS ISN'T MY CAR!" And then, realizing that this made me sound like the most inept car thief ever, I added, "IT'S MY MOM'S!"
He asked if she worked at Liberty and I said yes, and he asked if he could look at the fuse box and I said of course, and while he was puzzling over the fuse box another very nice gentlemen approached and wanted to know if everything was okay. He and the first guy knew each other, and in my head I decided their names were Bob and Phil -- Bob was the taller one with the glasses, and Phil was the shorter, stockier one.
"IS IT OKAY IF I CHECK UNDER THE HOOD?" Bob asked.
"CAN I LOOK IN THE GLOVE BOX FOR THE USER MANUAL?" Phil wanted to know.
"OMGYESPLEASE," I said, and for the next ten minutes Bob and Phil tried to figure out why in the hell the Honda was possessed and hated me. "THIS IS SO WEIRD," they kept saying. "WHY WON'T IT TURN OFF?" And I just kept wailing that it wasn't my car and I had no idea what was going on, and I think they both felt sorry for me and thought the whole thing was funny as hell.
Then, just as I was about to stab out my eardrums in desperation, the alarm stopped.
"OHMIGODTHANKYOUSOMUCH!"
Bob and Phil were bewildered. "I...don't think we did anything."
"I don't care! It stopped! You saved me! THANK YOU!"
And so I shook their hands and thanked them again, and when they were gone I did a retarded little dance in the garage before I got back in the car and didn't touch anything. Mom showed up about five minutes later. As soon as she touched the door handle, the alarm went off.
"WHAT THE FUCK?!" <-- Mom
"NOOOOOONOTAGAIN!" <-- Me
I'm not sure how she managed to turn it off, just like I have no idea how Bob and Phil shut it up. Our usual strategy involves pushing buttons at random until something does what it's supposed to, but there's no rhyme or reason to what works. It varies. This, I believe, is because the car is secretly a lot more intelligent than we give it credit for, and it hates us. Deeply.
All of my weird adventures seem to revolve around car mishaps. Maybe I should take up horseback riding instead. (Hi-yo Silver, AWAAAAAY! [/dumbass])
* The message I left her is unintentionally hilarious. It's mostly just the car alarm sound with me wailing about how the car thinks I'm trying to steal it and I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO AND HURRY UP AND GET DONE WITH YOUR THING BECAUSE THE CAR HATES MEEEEE. XD
Eh, whatever. I'm in a vaguely good mood today, mostly because my feet are warm and I just finished my coffee. Coffee + warm feet = good times.
So I took the streetcar and the train over to Mom's building yesterday -- normally, she picks me up because we commute together (she works on the other side of the Willamette, so it's crazy-convenient), but she had a thing and thought she'd be done by the time I made it over there, so I hoofed it down to the streetcar stop and spent an enjoyable 45 minutes doing the public transportation thing.
I mean it, too. I love Portland's public transit system. It's ridiculously easy to get around, fareless square is HUGE, and you can't beat the people-watching. While I waited for my train I listened to a man play the violin on the streetcorner, and it was beautiful. I wish I'd had some cash on me -- I always try to give to street musicians.
Unfortunately, Mom wasn't done with her meeting by the time I got to the parking garage, but I'd borrowed the extra set of car keys just in case. It was just as cold inside the car as it was outside, so I thought I'd turn the car on and run the heater a bit, just to warm up. I turn the key, and...the fucking car alarm goes off.
Let me tell you something about the car alarm on the Honda. It defies all explanation. It's a car alarm on steroids. It's a car alarm on speed. It's a car alarm on fucking METH, IT'S THAT AWFUL. There's no earthly way for me to accurately convey through text what the car alarm sounds like, but just imagine the loudest, most horrible noise you can think of, multiply that by TEN, and you still won't even come close.
So the lights start flashing and the car goes, "BRAAAAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEENK! BRAAAAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEENK! BRAAAAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEENK! BRAAAAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEENK!" and I scream and flail around and try to start the car, but all THAT does is make the alarm LOUDER AND MORE HIGH-PITCHED, so I try unlocking the car and re-locking the car and opening all the doors and banging my head against the steering wheel and NONE of it works, at which point I tried calling Mom but her cell reception is off in the building* and finally I just got out of the car and screamed, "FUCK YOU, CAR! FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU WHY WON'T YOU STOP ALREADY FUCK YOUUUUUU!"
At this point, a car pulled up next to me in the garage, and a very nice gentlemen in glasses said, "Is everything all right?"
Of course, I couldn't hear him at first because of the alarm. Most of the ensuing conversation was conducted at the top of our lungs. "NO!" I yelled. "THIS ISN'T MY CAR!" And then, realizing that this made me sound like the most inept car thief ever, I added, "IT'S MY MOM'S!"
He asked if she worked at Liberty and I said yes, and he asked if he could look at the fuse box and I said of course, and while he was puzzling over the fuse box another very nice gentlemen approached and wanted to know if everything was okay. He and the first guy knew each other, and in my head I decided their names were Bob and Phil -- Bob was the taller one with the glasses, and Phil was the shorter, stockier one.
"IS IT OKAY IF I CHECK UNDER THE HOOD?" Bob asked.
"CAN I LOOK IN THE GLOVE BOX FOR THE USER MANUAL?" Phil wanted to know.
"OMGYESPLEASE," I said, and for the next ten minutes Bob and Phil tried to figure out why in the hell the Honda was possessed and hated me. "THIS IS SO WEIRD," they kept saying. "WHY WON'T IT TURN OFF?" And I just kept wailing that it wasn't my car and I had no idea what was going on, and I think they both felt sorry for me and thought the whole thing was funny as hell.
Then, just as I was about to stab out my eardrums in desperation, the alarm stopped.
"OHMIGODTHANKYOUSOMUCH!"
Bob and Phil were bewildered. "I...don't think we did anything."
"I don't care! It stopped! You saved me! THANK YOU!"
And so I shook their hands and thanked them again, and when they were gone I did a retarded little dance in the garage before I got back in the car and didn't touch anything. Mom showed up about five minutes later. As soon as she touched the door handle, the alarm went off.
"WHAT THE FUCK?!" <-- Mom
"NOOOOOONOTAGAIN!" <-- Me
I'm not sure how she managed to turn it off, just like I have no idea how Bob and Phil shut it up. Our usual strategy involves pushing buttons at random until something does what it's supposed to, but there's no rhyme or reason to what works. It varies. This, I believe, is because the car is secretly a lot more intelligent than we give it credit for, and it hates us. Deeply.
All of my weird adventures seem to revolve around car mishaps. Maybe I should take up horseback riding instead. (Hi-yo Silver, AWAAAAAY! [/dumbass])
* The message I left her is unintentionally hilarious. It's mostly just the car alarm sound with me wailing about how the car thinks I'm trying to steal it and I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO AND HURRY UP AND GET DONE WITH YOUR THING BECAUSE THE CAR HATES MEEEEE. XD