Wiped out by technology
I am too dumb for smart technology. I’ve had a series of incidents involving technology in which I lost the war against the machines.
In March, I had to watch a YouTube video on how to reset the clock on my car’s dashboard display for Daylight Saving Time. In early April, I had to reboot my television after a blackout, during which I had to log back into my streaming services and re-enter all the passwords, or, in most cases, create new ones for HBO Max, Amazon, Disney+, Paramount+, basically all the pluses.
Side note: It’s so frustrating when I create a new password and the computer is like, “You’ve already used that one before,” and I’m all, “Then, you know it’s me!”
But I digress, like I do. In the old days, all you had to do was turn the television back on, and you were done!
P.S. I had a second incident with the TV when the batteries in the remote ran out, and I couldn’t figure out how to turn off the TV without getting up and going to the battery drawer, grabbing some triple As, and replacing them. P.P.S. There was no other way.
Recently, I hit a new low in my rage against the machines.
Weeks ago, I went to the car wash. Halfway through the sudsy cycle, I looked up from my phone and noticed that my windshield wipers were on. The car is programmed to turn on the wipers when raindrops hit it. I don’t need that. I can turn on my wipers when I see rain. Thanks, but no thanks.
I had to quickly turn them off, as they were getting stuck on that big floppy curtain of hanging, ribbon-like cloth, AKA the flaps. I left the car wash and met up with a friend at a local Panera.
Additional side note: My mom gave me my Panera card. When it’s time to pick up my sandwich, I have to answer to the name Georgann. Ironically, I was there with my friend Drew, whose sandwich was under his wife’s name.
When I was leaving Panera, it started to rain. I turned on my wipers, but there were no wiper blades attached. The flaps tore the blades right off the car. The next dry day, I drove to my local mechanic, and he put on new wiper blades.
I told this story to another friend. She said, “I smell a column,” which is something my friends say whenever something weird or ridiculous happens to me, which is more often than you’d think.
I told her, “This is embarrassing.”
She said, “Has that ever stopped you before?”
I wasn’t going to share this story. Today, however, I went to the car wash, and there was a brand-new sign that read: “We are not responsible for your automatic wiper blades.”
Clearly, I’m not the only person who has experienced this. I’m sure they didn’t print a sign just for me.
The timing, however, is suspicious.