Tale of Woe: Hijacked by Faulty Technology

Yesterday I had a long list of errands to run and a dead battery in my car. It turns out that the alarm system malfunctioned and drained the 6-month old battery, so instead of running errands I spent the day banging my head against a wall…or at least that’s what it felt like.

After trying to disarm the system and open my car door with my key-fob remote (and the spare) I opened my door the old-fashioned way…I used the key! This would normally start the horn honking and the lights flashing, but nothing happened. Since the alarm system is the kill-switch variety, I was unable to start my car. I called the alarm company and they walked me through the steps to disarm the system and put it in “valet mode” which should have allowed me to start my car. After following their directions several times, my car battery was completely dead. They dispatched a technician, who was supposed to jump start my battery and repair the alarm system. Key words: supposed to.

The technician arrived an hour late, so I had been stewing for over two hours at this point. Then he said he didn’t feel comfortable using his car to jump start mine. (Wimp!) He offered to come back later that day after the auto club took care of my battery problem.

So, I called the auto club. I know from previous experience that they respond at a snail’s pace, so I also called the local police non-emergency line to have a Motorist Assist volunteer sent to my location. I figured whoever showed up first would have my undying gratitude and the other one could take a flying leap. No big surprise when the guy who wasn’t getting paid to show up showed up first and cheerfully took care of my needs…ahem, my car battery needs.

After the jump start, I drove to a nearby Chevy dealer and they checked the battery for signs of physical damage, which there were none, and proclaimed the battery sound and fully charged.

Then I called the alarm company to let them know I was ready for the technician to return and examine the faulty alarm system. Oh, so sorry, but he has installations scheduled for the rest of the afternoon and can’t come back until tomorrow. I hate when people tell you (to your face) they’re going to do something and then they make excuses over the phone. If I believed in hell I would say there was a special area reserved for people such as these; but I don’t. Still it’s a nice day-dream.

Luckily the tech showed up this morning on time, so I didn’t have to hunt him down like a dog and shoot him.

Since I had the whole night to toss and turn and stew over the alarm issue, I decided to have the damn thing removed. I’ve had car alarms before and have never had even a hint of a problem with those systems. It figures the most expensive alarm I’ve ever had would be the one to malfunction. But it is gone from my sight now, never to return again. Plus I get to shop for a new alarm system. (Oooh, shopping!)

Since I love my car I took it to the dealer to have the electrical system checked. I don’t want my baby breaking down because some Neanderthal alarm tech was monkeying around with the wiring. The service advisor didn’t know if he could have the work completed by closing, so they offered me a ride home in the courtesy shuttle.

Invariably, the courtesy shuttle driver is an old man around 70 years of age; the age when he should be thinking about turning in his license instead of earning a living by driving around all day long. This has been a constant in my experience, and today was no exception. Sitting in the passenger seat, I found myself offering up a silent prayer, “Please God, let me get home in one piece”: then I remembered that I am an atheist. Damn, I must have been really scared to forget something important like that! Old habits die hard. Obviously I made it home in one piece, having lived to tell the tale with my atheism in tact (thank you very much).

I hate having my life hijacked by faulty technology, but it could have been worse. (It can always be worse.) I’ll have my car back tomorrow and will finally be able to get to Target. Yippee!