as told to (your name here)

Anger Management

Is it still called 'road rage' if I want to ram my own car into a concrete abutment?

The G has been royally pissing me off as of late. Not the whole car, mind you, but specifically the bluetooth interface. In case you're not familiar, my car has a built-in speakerphone wired into the radio and a nifty little button on the steering wheel. To use it, you pair the phone to the speakerphone and it automatically mutes the radio when making or receiving a call. In theory, it's great. But the motherfucker refuses to pair. (Ed. note: Not unlike the girls he's been dating recently.)

I don't leave the bluetooth enabled on my phone unless I'm using it because it drains the battery faster. So if I plan on using it, I turn it on, then tell the phone to pair with the car. The indicator light on my car blinks a few times, but then goes out which should signal that it's not paired with my phone. Meanwhile, my phone displays a message that it's still searching for my car. If I close the clamshell on my phone, it stops the pairing process. However, even though both the car and the phone indicate that they're not paired, if I press the steering wheel button and try to place a call, it works. WTF?!

The other problem, the one that really had me cursing at my car, was the voice recognition. The car doesn't have the ability to look at my phone's address book. Rather, it has it's own address book. But it takes too long to program all that shit, and it only allows one number per person. For example, I store "Beth" and the car asks me if that's her mobile number, so I say yes. I try to store Beth's home number and, rather than ask me if that's her home number it tells me that "Beth" sounds too much like another entry in the phone book, so I have to choose another name. So why the fuck did it ask me whether the first number was her mobile number!? Anyway, fook that shiz, because I don't have time to be coming up with unique sounding names for everyone and every number in my phone. Instead, I can just say the digits that I want to dial. (This is, however, a problem because I can only consistently remember my parents, my sister, and my own phone number without looking at what's stored in my phone's phonebook.)

tinyhands: Dial, 7135551212.
Stupid G-bitch: Dial, 71355512122? Say 'dial' or 'correction.'

th: Correction. Dial, 7135551212.
G: Dial, 7035551212. Say 'dial' or 'correction.'

th: (muttering, 'goddammit') Correction. Dial, 7 1 3 5 5 5 1 2 1 2.
G: Dial, 7135558822. Say 'dial' or 'correction.'

th: What the fuck? CORRECTION! DIAL, SEVEN, ONE, THREE, FIVE, FIVE, FIVE, ONE, TWO, ONE, TWO!
G: Dial, 71355512212. Say 'dial' or 'correction.'

th: You've got to be kidding me. CORRECTION! DIAL. SEV-EN. WONNN. THREEEE. FIIIVE. FIIIVE. FIIIVE. WONNN. TOOOO. WONNN. TOOOO!
G: Dial, 7135051212. Say 'dial' or 'correction.'

th: AAHHHH!!!!! (pounds steering wheel button with fist, inadvertently honking at everyone within 500 yards)

posted by tinyhands @ 11:59 PM