Okay Now...Be A Good Little Human
Maybe I’m turning into an old fussbudget but lately I’m getting a little tired of machines “doing” things for me. Although there are a number of areas to which this applies, I seem to get particularly ticked of as it relates to cars and bathrooms. I’ve already learned how to navigate each, thank you very much. And one, at a very early age, in fact.
It all started with a seatbelt.
Okay, who all remembers the first time they got into a car, and the car ‘seatbelted’ them in, without their help? Did you think, “Awww, what a sweet thoughtful car this is!” Hell no. I thought, “Help! This damn thing has me trapped!” I hated that. Hated it. And when the fake lady’s voice reminded me that my door was open? It was like, “No shit? Really? Is that why the left side of my body is exposed to sun, wind and rain? Damn. Thanks, car.” Okay, granted I got used to some of it. SO used to it that, whenever I’d get into someone else’s less-smart car, I’d try and try to get out and couldn’t, only to realize I have to first UNDO my belt. (I know that whenever this happened, my car was back home, smirking)
Then came the bathrooms. Remember the first time the toilet flushed for you? Shit (bad word choice) – I nearly jumped into the next stall. This is great for the five year old who forgets to flush. But for those of us who have been potty trained a bit longer – I prefer to have control over this operation. I want to know it’s done before I leave – without having to find a way to escape the motion sensor in a 1’ X 1’ impossible space.
The “I’ll tell you when the water is gonna start” sink is kind of a good thing. I like not having to turn it off. But of course that’s assuming it’s paying attention to my wild hand flails and actually turned it on in the first place.
Paper towel decision maker? Don’t EVEN get me started. There I stand, Oliver Twist-like, begging for another little scrap of paper. “Please, mister, may I have some more? I’d like to dry the pinky on my right hand, too.”
But these are mostly inconveniences, some silly things that I can get worked up into a good crochety grumble about. At worst, it feels like the beginning of a sci fi movie where paternalistic machines have taken over in order to do what they think is best for us. Wait! (wahine frantically tries to remember the end of 2001 – A Space Odyssey; was HAL really destroyed? – before nervously refocusing on post). But the one that drives me freakin’ NUTS is the one I had to deal with this morning…
A car that locks its doors whether you want it to or not. FFS, what’s up with that?????
I don’t mean the driver’s door – it, in its undisputable auto wisdom (heh) has probably already factored in the probability of us crazy humans leaving the keys in the ignition.
I mean, when it takes it upon itself to lock the OTHER doors.
Why am I experiencing this and why is it driving me nuts?
Because my car is sort of off limits until the guy who does brakes comes back to town. So I rented a car for a couple of days – to go to other side of island, buy groceries, drop off used clothing to giveaway place, deal with packages from post office, etc. - all chores that involve opening and closing non-driver doors. And of COURSE the freaking doors were always locked.
It’s like playing a bad game of Mother, May I with a gawddamned machine.
If we can’t figure out the door thing, then we probably shouldn’t be driving in the first place. Maybe that needs to be added to the driving test, kind of like the ADA thing – “True or false: I am capable of locking or unlocking my car doors.”
Anyway…the car is returned, my little meltdown that involved screaming obscenities at a big inanimate object in public is over, and I’m safely back to work – harrumphing to my friends about it.
So I just thought I’d loop you in as well.
It all started with a seatbelt.
Okay, who all remembers the first time they got into a car, and the car ‘seatbelted’ them in, without their help? Did you think, “Awww, what a sweet thoughtful car this is!” Hell no. I thought, “Help! This damn thing has me trapped!” I hated that. Hated it. And when the fake lady’s voice reminded me that my door was open? It was like, “No shit? Really? Is that why the left side of my body is exposed to sun, wind and rain? Damn. Thanks, car.” Okay, granted I got used to some of it. SO used to it that, whenever I’d get into someone else’s less-smart car, I’d try and try to get out and couldn’t, only to realize I have to first UNDO my belt. (I know that whenever this happened, my car was back home, smirking)
Then came the bathrooms. Remember the first time the toilet flushed for you? Shit (bad word choice) – I nearly jumped into the next stall. This is great for the five year old who forgets to flush. But for those of us who have been potty trained a bit longer – I prefer to have control over this operation. I want to know it’s done before I leave – without having to find a way to escape the motion sensor in a 1’ X 1’ impossible space.
The “I’ll tell you when the water is gonna start” sink is kind of a good thing. I like not having to turn it off. But of course that’s assuming it’s paying attention to my wild hand flails and actually turned it on in the first place.
Paper towel decision maker? Don’t EVEN get me started. There I stand, Oliver Twist-like, begging for another little scrap of paper. “Please, mister, may I have some more? I’d like to dry the pinky on my right hand, too.”
But these are mostly inconveniences, some silly things that I can get worked up into a good crochety grumble about. At worst, it feels like the beginning of a sci fi movie where paternalistic machines have taken over in order to do what they think is best for us. Wait! (wahine frantically tries to remember the end of 2001 – A Space Odyssey; was HAL really destroyed? – before nervously refocusing on post). But the one that drives me freakin’ NUTS is the one I had to deal with this morning…
A car that locks its doors whether you want it to or not. FFS, what’s up with that?????
I don’t mean the driver’s door – it, in its undisputable auto wisdom (heh) has probably already factored in the probability of us crazy humans leaving the keys in the ignition.
I mean, when it takes it upon itself to lock the OTHER doors.
Why am I experiencing this and why is it driving me nuts?
Because my car is sort of off limits until the guy who does brakes comes back to town. So I rented a car for a couple of days – to go to other side of island, buy groceries, drop off used clothing to giveaway place, deal with packages from post office, etc. - all chores that involve opening and closing non-driver doors. And of COURSE the freaking doors were always locked.
It’s like playing a bad game of Mother, May I with a gawddamned machine.
If we can’t figure out the door thing, then we probably shouldn’t be driving in the first place. Maybe that needs to be added to the driving test, kind of like the ADA thing – “True or false: I am capable of locking or unlocking my car doors.”
Anyway…the car is returned, my little meltdown that involved screaming obscenities at a big inanimate object in public is over, and I’m safely back to work – harrumphing to my friends about it.
So I just thought I’d loop you in as well.
posted by Marti @ 12:05 AM
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