You remember the Prius, the first brand-new car Tras and I have had in decades. It’s a darling little thing, all energy-efficient and all — and for that reason alone, we love it. We do.
We also love it because it is extremely pimped out.
Oh, it’s no Mafia Car, our name for the Chrysler 300, which to me looks extremely intimidating with its gun-slit windows and menacing grill.
And when the Mafia goes on vacation, there is the convenient wagon version.
Anyway, one of the bells and/or whistles which came on the model Prius we selected is keyless entry. It’s not just keyless, though; it’s completely keyless. You need never remove the remote from your pocket or purse. Stand next to the car and open the handle; it knows you’re there. Get in, press a button, the thing starts. Get out, lightly touch your finger to the handle (with the remote on your person, of course) and beep, it’s locked.
I now require this for every aspect of my life. And I’m almost there.
Arriving home, we push a little button on the rear-view mirror, which has been programmed to our garage-door remote. Open sesame. The garage opens. I enter my home.
Similarly, when I get to work, I wave my purse, containing my pass card, at the electronic door lock; the door unlocks and I sweep into the building.
Through the day, wherever I go, doors unlock and open as I approach. The crowd parts, as it were. I’m getting used to this.
Until I get to the door to my office. It’s a big heavy wooden door, equipped with this … this … metal thing. Perplexed, I stand there a moment, then gently push on the door.
I try the doorknob. Nothing. It will jiggle slightly, but that’s it. I set down my purse and bowl of oatmeal (tip #3) and stare for a while. How am I going to get in?
Then it dawns on me. I HAVE TO USE A KEY.
It’s amazing how quickly I got used to key-free living. Sure, every once in a while I start digging in my purse for my keychain as I head out to the parking lot to get into the car. But more often, it’s the other way; I stand before doors, waiting for them to sense my presence and admit me.
It’s as close, I suppose, as I’m ever going to come to achieving full-blown deity status.