Opposites Attract…on August 1, 2012 at 5:30 am
There is one constant topic where the Hubs and I will never be able to find any common ground.
Hubs is a little bit country… and I’m a little bit “anything except country” This difference of opinion can make for quite the interesting car ride… especially the long ones. We made a deal many moons ago that if we were in his truck, he got to pick the music and if we were in my car… I got to pick. Pretty simple, no? Well, yeah… you’d think so. It worked out well for a while. Some days, if I was feeling generous, I would even switch my radio to his station… give him that little “I love you” look and sit back, while attempting to tune out the f’ing banjos and shit. I’ve tried to like his music… kind of… OK, not really. But I like what I like… and that’s not it.
When we recently purchased our new car, we knew it had all kinds of groovy features. The steering wheel is heated, the seats have air conditioners in them… the middle console can whip up a tasty bowl of spaghetti-os, if requested. The car is the shit. Oh, yeah… and satellite radio…. ummm… foreshadowing much?
So… when I get tired of sexually harassing Siri, I can talk to the car.
The voice in the car wasn’t given a cool name, so I think I’m gonna have to name it now. We shall call her “NotSiri”
NotSiri doesn’t really have much to say. She just pretty much does the shit we ask her to do… without trying to seduce my husband.
One of the many things that NotSiri can do is change the radio station… This little feature would be pretty cool if Hubs, for whatever reasons, didn’t think he had control over the damned stations, again! My car, my stations??? What happened to that? Hubs will be nonchalantly driving along… and request the NotSiri change the station. I know what’s coming and I know I’m not going to like it so I try to distract NotSiri. When Hubs tries to name the station I make sure to make as much noise as humanly possible. I cough, rustle papers in the glove box, open the passenger side window, yell “lalalallalalalallalalallalallalalallallalalalalal” all while shooting deathly eye daggers at my Husband. Somehow he manages to get his radio station recognized by NotSiri and as she goes to find some f’ing banjos I slam into motion… I covertly snake my hand around Hubs, jabbing the voice activation on the steering wheel and scream “ABORT MISSION, NOTSIRI!!!!! ABORT F’ING MISSION” Hubs swerves the car from side to side, attempting to quiet me by knocking my protesting head against the now closed passenger window. In the confusion, NotSiri returns with not just country…. but, REALLY old country. Like whatever the hell came before those f’ing banjos!!! At this point I’m crying big old alligator tears and yelling on my phone asking Siri if she can please tell NotSiri that I don’t want to listen to any damned country and can she please change the station. Siri antagonizes me by using my first name in her response. I attempt to bribe Siri to just somehow do the dirty work herself and get the damned station changed and Siri plays dead… along with my phone.
Hubs finally makes note of my distress and swiftly plugs his phone in… going to his jukebox.
I’m pretty sure this is at least 5 more points deducted off my Street Cred Card…