It was a pretty normal day until I tried to put my laptop into the trunk of my intrepid Volvo on the way home from work.
And the trunk would not open. Not through the driver’s door lock (the usual method). Not even with the key right there in the trunk.
And the driver’s door lock, which usually opens all doors – just opened the driver’s door lock. Hmmm.
I threw the pc into the back seat, got in the car, started it up, and turned on the radio.
I did not turn on the radio. I held the button down. I banged on the button. No radio.
I pulled out of the garage, one hand on the steering wheel, one hand banging all the buttons on the radio. Bupkes.
This is some sort of April Fool’s day joke, and I am the fool.
At least the car drove, and I drove that car for 45 minutes in silence, interspersed with a few mild curses, all the way home.
And when I pulled up to the driveway, and I opened the glovebox to grab the garage door opener – the glovebox started dinging – ding, ding, ding. You know, the “you need to buckle your seatbelt” ding?
What the fuck?
I close the glove box – dings stop. Open the glove box – ding, ding, ding.
This is some alternative universe.
I greeted the husband with – “hey, my car is fucked up.’