My husband is leaving today with his good bud, Mike, to travel the six hours to Richmond to pack up my sister's lifelong treasures and bring her, and my niece, home.
I couldn't be happier!
However, he is taking my more - um - rustic- vehicle and leaving me with his shiny, musically-enhanced, one. Which is great.
I can't work it. He's done so much after-factory stuff, that when I was driving home the other day - I couldn't get the XM radio to function, nor could I manage to get the cd changer to, well, change!
I felt like a failure.
I felt uneducated.
I felt like committing hubby-cide.
So I call him: "Hi, babycakeshead!" I launch into him. "I've just noticed two things: Number one: Harley Davidson people wave at each other like the corvette people do, neat-o. Number two: HOW THE HELL DO YOU WORK YOUR CAR?!"
He, as always, laughed at my misfortune and informed me that the cd changer was temperamental and that XM can be easily fixed by hitting the Onstar button and then turning off Onstar.
Why didn't I think of that.
So I hit the Onstar button and then try to turn it off.
It starts dialing.
I start panicking.
"Hello, welcome to Onstar. How may I help you today?" a very pleasant woman answers.
"I DIDN'T MEAN TO CALL YOU! AGH! I HIT A WRONG BUTTON! AGH! I'M SORRY! AGH! NOT MY CAR! AGH! WRONG BUTTON! AGHHHH!"
The woman laughed and said "Alright, I'll go ahead and disconnect the call for you. You have a nice day and thank you for using Onstar!"
"I'M SORRY! THANKS! AGH!" was my cultured response.
"You're welcome" she said, still laughing.
I think I just made it on to their radio commericals.
I called Harry back: "Hey, babycakeshead - those Onstar people are nice!"
"You weren't supposed to actually call them," he said, a bit dumbfounded by the sound of it.
"I'M SORRY! I HIT THE WRONG BUTTON! AGH! I DIDN'T MEAN TO CALL! AGH!"