How complicated is it now? Remember when you used to just throw your keys at someone and not think any more about it? I leant a buddy of mine my car. He was down from interstate. He has one of those classic Range Rovers. It's nice too, champagne with black leather trim, which smells like an old world luxo limo, but it is 20 years old.
I handed him the key to my car. I was just about to ask him if he needed directions.
“What’s this?”
“The key. The key to the car.”
“But it’s a square box.” He was turning it around in his hand.
“That’s because it’s keyless.”
He looked at me with enquiring eyes. “So how do I open it?”
“Just walk up to the car and the door will open.”
“By itself?”
“When you pull on the handle.”
“Just pull on the handle?”
“Yes.”
“And it will open?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
He didn’t sound like he was convinced.
“How do I start it?”
“There’s a button.”
“A button?”
“On the dash.”
“How do I know which it is?”
“It’s says start.”
“A button that says start?”
“Yes.”
"Push that?"
"Yes."
“Okay.”
He looked at the square plastic box in his hand.
“How do I lock it.
“There is a black button on the outside of the door, push it twice.
“Push the black button on the outside?"
"Yes, on the door handle."
"Push the button twice?”
“Yes.”
“How will I know it's locked?”
“When the mirrors retract the car is locked.”
“The mirrors retract?”
“Yes.”
"Fold in."
"Yes, they'll make a kind of buzz sound."
"Mirrors that buzz?"
"Yes, mirror that buzz."
He calls me a bit later. “So, I tried that…”
“What?”
“The button to lock the car.”
“And the mirrors retracted?”
“Yes, the mirrors retracted.” He laughed. “But when I tested the door to see if it was locked, the door just opened again.”
“That’s because it’s keyless.”
“Keyless?”
“Yes, you’ve got the key in your pocket.”
“How do I check if its lock?” he said. He puts on a funny accent. “It’s me OCD you know.”
He doesn’t have OCD. “If you want to test it, try the back door.”
“Test to see if the car is locked by pulling on the back door handle?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
When he got back I asked home how it went.
“Yeah, okay.”
“Goodo,” I said.
“The biggest problem I had was finding the damn petrol cap release.”
“In the…”
“Door frame." We both said in unison.
I smiled.
"Yes, I found it... eventually.”
"Eventually?"
"Cars were banking up."
"In the servo?"
"Out to the street."
"Out to the street?"
"I know, hard to believe."
I laughed.
"Everyone was good natured about it."
I wanted to ask him if he put 98 octane in it, but I didn’t.
"The lovely inner suburbs of Melbourne," I said.
"I was waiting for someone to crack it."
"But they didn't?"
"No, they didn't."
"See, Melbourne people are cool."
He laughed. "The three drivers behind me couldn't find the petrol release either."
"That sounds like quite a gathering."
"At the servo."
"If you'd known, you could have taken snacks."
“And I still found it myself.”
“Not dead yet.”
"Not dead yet!”
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