With John away playing with trains, I’ve been gallivanting with neighbor Amy. She’ll be moving in about five weeks, so we needed to celebrate our friendship before there are three hours separating us. Mostly, we’ve run around town doing her errands. I love tagging along when I don’t have to concentrate on making decisions or being efficient.
When we came out of Lowe’s, I reminded her we were going to pair her new phone with her car. I felt an undue responsibility for her success because I spoke highly of the Republic Wireless phone. She would not have bought it if I hadn’t said many times how pleased I was with mine. The offer was a brave thing on my part. I need precise instructions for things that are out of my league. I had paired a headset with a computer and a keyboard with a tablet, which didn’t make me an expert with a phone and a car. Noah had it easy with his prearranged pairings – no instructions, but his pairs must have looked similar.
My hand was reaching for the glove compartment as I asked Amy if she had the owner’s manual.
“It’s not there,” she said with certainty. “Maybe it’s back here somewhere.” She was rummaging under the driver’s seat and pulled out a small booklet. I began reading with one eye on the instructions and one eye looking for a telephone icon. At least Amy was familiar with her car! She punched something and told the car to call me. The car said it couldn’t complete a call to Ant Mehrling. I wasn’t offended, because I was ready to crawl under something by then. We went through all the steps several times, coming to a dead end by various and devious routes. The car should have given us a six-digit code, but kept flashing a connecting message. At long last, Amy noticed the airplane symbol on the phone, which I hadn’t thought to check.
When the car said the installation was complete, we didn’t believe it. I scrambled for my phone when Amy called Ant Mehrling again. The car may have had a grudge against me by then. It and I were not on speaking terms. Amy commanded a call to her granddaughter who was driving across the country from California to North Carolina. The young woman answered immediately. We were so thrilled that the phone worked, that we never asked where she was.
Amy explained to her, “We weren’t sure how this Bluetooth extraction was going. You know there will be trouble when two elderly ladies – that’s old ladies with blue hair and yellow teeth — sit in a car trying to make technology work for them.”
Look at Amy’s photo at the left, and you’ll see the blue should refer to her eyes and the yellow to her hair.
If the granddaughter snickered at Amy’s statement, our old ears didn’t catch it. I thought we’d spent maybe 20 minutes, but Amy was sure it was closer to two hours.