My car has this nifty feature that I wanted to tell you about.
To activate it, first you must go shopping at Walmart for a few groceries. And then, since you’re quickly running out of time before you need to pick the kids up at tennis practice, cave and buy all of the icecream-the-kids-have-been-begging-for-all-summer long. Think to yourself: won’t I win allllllll of the nice mom points when I come skidding up to the tennis court in my twelve-year-old Honda Odyssey minivan, loaded down with frosty treats?!?
Next, place your temperature-sensitive purchases into the passenger side of your car because that’s the side in the shade and the temperature is 90 degrees. Oh, and don’t forget to place your purse, your phone and your keys into the front seat while you’re at it. We’ll call that the “secret sauce” of nifty feature activation.
It’s right about the time you’re playing Good Citizen and walking your cart to the cart corral that the nifty feature ACTIVATES!
Lock. Lock, lock, lock. LOCK!!!
There. All of the doors of the car are now locked. It’s a “timeout” lock. If the car has been unlocked – but the driver’s side hasn’t been accessed after a certain period of time – the car locks itself up again.
ISN’T THAT THE NIFTIEST FRICKIN’ FEATURE YOU EVER HEARD OF?!??!??!!!! EVER?!???!
Welllllllcome to Sucktown, U.S.A.
Population? One. Me.
What. The. HellamIsupposedtodonow?!?? I could call someone if my PHONE WASN’T LOCKED IN THE CAR! I could unlock the car to get my phone IF MY KEYS WEREN’T LOCKED IN THE CAR! I could ignore the whole mess and go shopping some more IF MY PURSE WASN’T LOCKED IN THE CAR!!!!
So I hot foot it back into Walmart and up to the Customer Service Counter. I did originally consider begging a cellphone off of someone in the parking lot. But that seemed weird. I seemed weird. Also, there’s always the possibility of getting cold sores with that approach.
Once I was at the counter, I had to explain what happened. And ask if I could use their phone to call my husband. But first, could I use their internet and a computer because I’m a total a$$ and have NO IDEA what my husband’s cell or work number is since it’s programmed into my phone…but I could look up his work website and get the phone number that way. I’m smart like that. And no, no kids or pets in the hot, locked car. Just a bunch of melty ice-cream. But thanks for asking.
Problem Numero Uno with that approach was that they didn’t have a public computer or internet access available. Problem Number Dos was that the public access phone was already being used by a customer who was trying to get someone on the horn who habla’d Español. It seemed like it was gonna take a while.
So the lovely, lovely customer service rep I had been speaking with let me borrow her personal cell phone to do my research and make my call.
THANK YOU LOVELY WALMART CUSTOMER SERVICE REP!
And when I finally got Hubby on the line, I started to explain the whole mess and realized that the ice-cream was melting even faster as I did that. So I closed with speedtalking, “I’m at the Walmart by home.The kids need to be picked up from tennis.The ice-cream is melting.I’m locked out of the car.JUST COME GET ME COME GET ME NOW!!!!”
I thanked the lovely Walmart Customer service rep again as I handed back her phone. Then I walked out of the store and realized I hadn’t given Hubby a triangulation point.
Knowing hoping Hubby is as clever as I am and would know to check outside the front entrance of the store for me, I settled down on a pallet of Miracle Gro potting soil to wait.
While I won’t go into further detail here, lemme just say that there is some crazy s**t that goes down in a Walmart parking lot.
Also? I gotta get a job at Walmart because the 20-items-or-less cashier I always see there in the morning drove away from her shift in a LEXUS! WTF???
By the time Hubby FINALLY pulled up (he said ten minutes on the phone; it was actually TWENTY! not clever enough, I’m afraid) I had convinced myself that people thought I was the saddest, most cut-rate ho EVER; Havin’ to hook her wares from “home base” on a pallet of potting soil.
So when I saw his car come ‘round the corner, I hiked up my shorts, crooked my leg and got into character. The whole scene actually gave off more of a “gotta hinkle off to the bathroom now” rather than an “I’m lookin’ for my next John” vibe. But now’s not the time to critique my acting ability.
I said nothing, just hopped in as he slowed down. I pointed at a lane in the parking lot and he drove me to my car and unlocked it using his set of keys. Then drove away shouting, “Fuggedaboutit! Don’t even mention it. YOU’RE WELCOME!”
Isn’t he funny?! He’s sooooooo funny!
But you know what’s NOT funny? Sucktown, U.S.A.
It SUCKS! Don’t go there. So beware of nifty locking features on your car. BEWARE!