Ring the Alarm

I love my new car. I love getting into a car that doesn't have broken handles, a cracked windshield, and an unintentional massage function when you go over 40 miles per hour. One of the things I love most is having keyless entry. I can't tell you how many times I've stood and gotten soaked in the rain while fumbling with my keys to try and get in the car. So my only request when looking at cars was that it have keyless entry. I didn't really care about anything else. Well, I was partial to having an auxillary port for my iPod, which I also got, but I digress.

So I love this keyless entry. But like all good love affairs, there is one small hitch. I am so smitten that it doesn't really bother me. Like a strange mole near a hairline that no one REALLY sees, but when you know it's there, you can't help but stare at it. Constantly.

The mole on the hairline of the car is this:

I set off the security system every time I enter and exit Wal-Mart.

I walk in, 'BONG! I'm sorry, you have activated...blah blah blah" The door monitors usually laugh and wave me in. 20 minutes later, I walk out and "BONG! I'm sorry, you have activated...blah blah blah" and the door monitors look at me like I have the whole profit margin of the store stuffed in my reusable shopping bags. (Yes. I've started using cloth reusable shopping bags for the majority of the time. Like any habit, I sometimes forget, but that's ok since I still need plastic ones for kitty litter receptacles). One door monitor suggested it was my cell phone. Um, except that I've been coming in and out of that Wal-Mart for 6 months without setting off the alarm. This is definitely a "within the last 3 weeks" problem, and within the last three weeks is when I've gotten a new car with a new key that has a keyless entry pad on it.

So if you end up seeing me on the news for attempting to steal the whole of Wal-Mart, it's not me, it's the keys.