So, George and I are leaving Kerby Lane Cafe after a late dinner. We get to her car, and George presses the button on the remote.
The car fails to respond.
The battery in the remote’s working; the little light blinks when you push the button. The alarm is working; the light inside the car is blinking. They’ve simply stopped communicating.
Sure, we can just unlock the door with the key–but the remote is the only way to disarm the alarm.
So, grumbling, we go back inside and call AAA. After a while, the guy shows up.
After futzing with it for a while (and deafening us with the alarm), all he can do is disable the alarm completely. Okay, fine. We’ll do without it for a while. It takes him a while to find the right fuse.
He pulls it out and gives it to George. He opens and closes the door multiple times, locks and unlocks it multiple times, to make sure the alarm is well and truly off. It is.
He starts to leave, we get in the car, George starts the ignition. The alarm goes off.
We turn the car off. He backs his truck back up to come look. George starts the ignition, so he can see that the alarm is still going off when we start the car.
Except this time, the alarm doesn’t go off.
Hovering in a cloud of "What the hell?" George and I drive home. We get out of the car. We close the door.
We hear the beep of the alarm arming itself.
The plan is for George to go straight to Best Buy (their auto electronics department) in the morning. In the interim, the questions are:
A) What happened to the alarm?
B) What the hell fuse did the guy pull out?!?! O.o
I mean, it did stop the alarm from going off. Except for when it didn’t. At this point, our best theory is that the damn thing is healing…