There are many reasons why I call my ride the "trusty Subaru", not the least of which is that it's been with me for 9 years and over 100,000 miles, while mostly only demanding routine maintenance and a few parts replaced here and there when they've worn out. Therefore it was definitely out of the ordinary when, roughly a couple of months ago, the electronic door lock button quit working suddenly. I initially blew it off--I mean, I figured it was no big deal, because I could still secure the vehicle using the fob (which I carry at all times) once I got out. So I just made a mental note of it, and decided to have the issue addressed the next time I went in for service.
But then...it started to get weird. As in, one day I was just driving along, minding my own business, and the doors abruptly...locked themselves. Now, I do realize that some models--Husband's Hyundai, for example--automatically do this as a safety feature for the passengers once the car is in motion...but mine is NOT one of them! So yeeeeaaaah, I was, let's say, "mildly freaked out" by this event, and began to formulate a hypothesis that my beloved Forester might be...HAUNTED. (Because of course my mind immediately went there--I blame it on waaayyy too many years of being a faithful Supernatural viewer...that stuff starts to stick with you after a while...especially if you're blessed/cursed with an overactive imagination like mine...)
Anyway, it's all super-cool, no harm done, and all that, right? I'll just keep ignoring the up-to-now still somewhat cryptic signs of otherworldly tampering, and carry on as if nothing is wrong. Eh, what's the worst that could happen? Weeeelllll...evidently this attitude and/or plan of action didn't please the... spirits (or whatever)...at all, and they conspired to level-up their spooky game.
What happened was, on Errand Friday I gathered together some household recycling, and traveled to the county's Hazardous Waste Center to responsibly dispose of it. The site is set up so that you enter at the main gate, and then make your way around in a counterclockwise circle, stopping at each area that pertains to what you need to unload. It was a chilly, breezy, damp day, and I'd gotten nice and toasty in the driver's seat, with the heat vents blasting on me for 15 minutes on the way there. That, coupled with the fact that I didn't actually have too many items, led me to formulate what seemed like a perfectly valid plan: leave the car warm and running, and just hop in and out a few times as necessary to drop things in bins.
Thus I pulled up to the first station--for CFL and LED bulbs, in case you care--steeled myself for the blast of cooler air, and bravely exited the vehicle. So far, so good...all I had to do was walk around to the other side, remove a few recyclables, and continue on my merry way. However, as I began to push my door shut, my ears picked up a faint, but familiar "click". It didn't even have time to register in my conscious brain what that sound meant--one that's been repeated countless times in my journeys--because the door was already inexorably moving toward its closed position, and there was no stopping it.
The next noise, though, chilled me to the bone, and caused my mouth to drop open in shock: BEEP. That's right, the unmistakable signal that says, "Your car is now locked up tight, yes sirree--don't you worry about it, no one's getting in and stealing your stuff!" But...but...that's not even supposed to be possible! I know from one unforgettable experience in my distant past that there's some kind of fail-safe (or, you know, "stupidity-proof") mechanism that prevents my Subaru from being able to lock when it senses that the key fob is inside. Uh-huh...clearly its Spidey sense is All. Kinds of Messed. Up.
So there I stood, flabbergasted, glaring at my traitorous Forester and admonishing it for the stunning act of betrayal (out loud--yeah, I'm that "talks to herself...or inanimate objects...in public" person...). Naturally, this caught the attention of an employee, who wandered over and asked with concern if there was something wrong. (He was too polite and respectful to actually address me as "The crazy lady in my parking lot who clearly needs help". For which I was grateful.) I sputtered a (probably barely comprehensible) explanation, and he shuffled his feet, sympathetic for sure, but apparently completely stumped about how to address the situation. Hmm...perhaps I hadn't made myself clear...my PHONE is inside. He brightened instantly and replied with palpable relief, "Oh! Here, you can use mine!"
I only had one play, since my AAA card was of course also (ironically, right?) out of reach: I called Husband and crossed my fingers that he wasn't in the middle of an important meeting...or that he could claim a Family Emergency and come to my rescue anyway. Fortunately, he seemed to be between conferences, so he answered, retrieved my spare key (while I provided him with a gratuitously dramatic narration of my woeful tale), and brought it right over to me. Problem temporarily solved.
At this point, I'd had absolutely enough of this &%$# nonsense, so I contacted the local Subaru dealership and made an appointment...for an exorcism. (You know, they seemed so confused when I shared my sincere and well-thought-out theory that my car must certainly be infested with either a poltergeist...or a demon. I would've thought they'd appreciate the diagnostic assist, but noooo. Also, they reeealllly need to work on their sense of humor as applied to customer relations. Just sayin'...)
And the verdict? Was less than reassuring. "Uh, we're gonna start by replacing the Master Switch (What? Witch? Damn, I didn't look for hex bags--that wasn't even one of my guesses!)...and hopefully that will fix it." Ohhh-kaaay. I'd prefer a more confident answer...but I'll take what I can get?
Still with me? Hang in there for yet another ridiculous wrinkle: because they apparently wanted the luxury of spending hours and hours to figure this out, they sent me home using their Courtesy Shuttle. Now, one reason I almost never go to the dealership is that they're a good 20-25 minutes from my house--not terribly convenient. So, we were pulling up to my driveway when it suddenly occurred to me...I didn't have a KEY. It's just that I never have to think about it, because Husband works from home...except for the, oh, approximately four days a year he has to actually go into the Durham office...one of which was, of course, Friday. And because I don't need them very often, my own set of keys is tucked into a hidden spot...In. The. Car.
Face, meet Palm. Seriously, could this get any more bizarre? It was sooooo lucky that this particular lightning bolt hit me BEFORE I got out and watched the van drive away. So I sheepishly confessed my predicament to the driver, who kindly didn't laugh or call me an idiot, but offered to return me to the dealership so I could retrieve my key. But at least my brain had woken up by this time, and I remembered that Riley has his own house key.
Thus if the very nice gentleman wouldn't mind chauffeuring me 5 more minutes to the High School, I could disrupt my son's class, borrow his key, and get into my home. (Because yes, I would like to be known as someone who causes as much trouble as humanly possible, thankyouverymuch....) The lovely ladies at the front desk listened to my plight, took pity on me, and directed me to Riley's 2nd period. At least it was Spanish, so when I poked my head in the door, I was able to tell la profesora y mi hijo what I needed en Espanol--which made up for the interruption? Sure, let's go with that...
So, shall we sum up what we've learned?
1. My Forester is perchance under some kind of electrical--but more likely paranormal--attack.
2. There may be a larger puzzle regarding keys (of any kind) and me....and how we just don't mix.
3. After Subaru completes their variety of repair, I might also have to perform a...I don't know...purifying ritual? (Or something...open to suggestions, y'all!)
Meanwhile, the new rule is: whenever I stop, for whatever reason or any amount of time, I will turn off the ignition, remove the keys, and place them somewhere on my person immediately! Please keep your fingers crossed that all of this works. (Oh, and if you know any spells that might be useful, feel free to pass them along! Kidding...sort of...)
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