Who put it in? / ¿Quien lo puso?

La versión en español está después de la versión en inglés.

SATURDAY, SAN GERALDO DROVE TO the supermarket to do a big shop. When he returned to the car in the underground garage, his key fob wouldn’t work. He extracted the manual key from within the fob and opened the door, but then he couldn’t start the car. There was a message in Spanish on the display that he didn’t understand. He phoned me. I translated it — about touching the key to the power. He thanked me and hung up.

About 20 minutes later, SG phoned again. He had searched everywhere and couldn’t find where to insert the key. I was confused because the verb was “touch” and not “insert.” I went online and found a 20-second video that demonstrated how he should touch the fob to the power button while pressing the button. “That worked!” he cheered. “Thanks!”

Monday SG went to a nearby shop and bought new batteries for the fobs. He inserted the new battery in his, and went down to the car to test it. It didn’t work. Oh, crap. It was something more serious.

Tuesday, we drove to the dealership and told the manager what was going on. He took the fob from SG and asked, “Is this the new battery?” SG replied yes. He tried it with no success. “Who put it in?” he asked. How rude, I thought, and we laughed.

The manager opened the fob, popped out the battery, and got a test battery from the service tech. It worked. “The battery is no good,” he said with a bit of surprise. And then he flipped over the new battery in the palm of his hand. “Ah!” he and the service tech laughed. SG hadn’t removed the protective sticker.

That reminded me of the time SG complained about his new roll-on deodorant. He had been using it for two days. “This deodorant doesn’t work!” he griped, “And it snags the hairs in my underarm!” I took the deodorant from his hand, removed the protective plastic dome, and gave it back to him.

But wait, there’s more. Click here for another story.


EL SÁBADO, SAN GERALDO LLEGÓ al supermercado para hacer una gran tienda. Cuando regresó al coche en el garaje subterráneo, su llavero no funcionaba. Extrajo la llave manual del interior del llavero y abrió la puerta, pero luego no pudo encender el auto. Había un mensaje en español en la pantalla que no entendió. Me llamó por teléfono. Lo traduje: algo sobre tocar la llave del poder. Me dio las gracias y colgó.

Aproximadamente 20 minutos después, volvió a llamar para decir que buscó en todas partes y no pudo encontrar dónde insertar la llave. Estaba confundido porque el verbo era “tocar” y no “insertar”. Me conecté a Internet y encontré un video de 20 segundos que demostraba cómo debe tocar el llavero del botón de encendido mientras presiona el botón. “¡Eso funciono!” él vitoreó. “¡Gracias!”

El lunes fue a una tienda cercana y compró baterías nuevas para los llaveros. Insertó la batería nueva en la suya y bajó al auto para probarla. No funcionó. Oh mierda. Fue algo más serio.

El martes, fuimos al concesionario y le dijimos al gerente lo que estaba pasando. Tomó el llavero de SG y preguntó: “¿Es esta la batería nueva?” SG respondió que sí. Lo intentó sin éxito. “¿Quién lo puso?” preguntó. Qué grosero, pensé, y nos reímos.

El gerente abrió el llavero, sacó la batería y obtuvo una batería de prueba del técnico de servicio. Funcionó. “La batería no es buena”, dijo con un poco de sorpresa. Y luego dio la vuelta a la nueva batería en la palma de su mano. “¡Ah!” él y el técnico de servicio se rieron. SG no había quitado la pegatina protectora.

Eso me recordó la vez que SG se quejó de su nuevo desodorante roll-on. Lo había estado usando durante dos días. “¡No me gusta este desodorante!” se quejó, “¡Y me engancha los pelos de la axila!” Le quité el desodorante de la mano, le quité la cúpula protectora de plástico y se lo devolví.

Pero espera hay mas. Haz clic aquí para ver otra historia.

• It’s “baby secure.” Keep out of reach of children.
• Es “seguro para bebés”. Mantener fuera del alcance de los niños.

Author: Moving with Mitchell

From Brooklyn, New York; to North Massapequa; back to Brooklyn; Brockport, New York; back to Brooklyn... To Boston, Massachusetts, where I met Jerry... To Marina del Rey, California; Washington, DC; New Haven and Guilford, Connecticut; San Diego, San Francisco, Palm Springs, and Santa Barbara, California; Las Vegas, Nevada; Irvine, California; Sevilla, Spain. And Fuengirola, Málaga..

43 thoughts on “Who put it in? / ¿Quien lo puso?”

  1. Scoot, you and Bob need to get together and write a book of humorous essays featuring SG and Carlos. You’d give the late Erma Bombeck a run for her money! Yes that dates me. Who cares? Too funny!

    1. DeeDahLah,
      My first thought was that Carlos would have done the exact same thing!
      SG and Carlos are brothers from another mother!

    2. Oh, I remember Erma Bombeck. I was a fan of hers, Art Buchwald, Mike Royko, and all the other newspaper humorists they had back then.

  2. My DH has a habit of not removing plastic coatings or covers from items, too. Especially funny when he complains about the look of something and I promptly walk up to the item and peel off the coating (e.g. new stainless steel dishwasher). He says, “Oh.”
    Oh, indeed.

    Bless his heart.

  3. And to think, the protection sleeve is what would normally save the day!!!!! LMAO! The only thing I can do with a key on my car is open the door it the fob doesn’t work. If my fob battery goes, I have a spare fob the car came with. If that goes then I finally get batteries. Lazy ass.

  4. SG – hee hee! love his ways AND his baking/cooking skillz! “who put it in” is rather a personal question, if your mind happens to be in the gutter. like mine.

  5. On my little hatchback Mazda, my practical car, when the batteries in the remote get low, I can’t open the rear hatch. There is no secondary release, no place for the key to go in, the hatch does not unlock with the other four doors, the rear simply won’t open without the remote. I can unlock and drive the car, but I can’t get things in or out of trunk, until I have the battery replaced. The dealer replaces them free of charge, to keep me coming back for $75 oil changes. (Maddie and Deedles have fun with my rear and trunk references.)

    1. David,
      I don’t know why you didn’t worry about ME getting into your rear! I think you give me more (or less) credit than I deserve.

  6. Your experiences with SG reminded me of the time I took my father out for a pizza lunch when I was in high school. We ordered different kinds, but Dad’s had an extra tough crust. He was halfway through his second slice before he gave up in frustration. So I looked at it and realized that the cook had not removed the thin cardboard base under the pizza before slicing it up! We had a good laugh that day!

    1. Tundra Bunny,
      Very funny! But your pizza had a cardboard base? Frozen pizza? Sounds like the kind of lunch I’D serve.

    1. Jennifer:
      I don’t know what I would write about some days. I should share again his underwear stories.

  7. How did SG ever manage without you? I enjoy these stories. I also clicked and read about The Dowager Duchess’ complaints. You can’t win with some people. My own mother was one of them.


    1. Janie,
      There are also some pretty funny stories from before I was in the picture. The duchess could also be wonderful (sometimes) but I learned to never let down my guard.

  8. The battery in my key fob went and I never got it replaced, relying on a “manual” key instead. One reason I don’t miss it is the Unlock button was right next to the Panic button, and since both buttons together isn’t even one/eight the size of my thumb, I’d occasionally click the panic–BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!–when all I wanted to do was unlock my car.

    1. Kirk,
      Our panic button is a combo of lock and unlock. Since the fobs are always left in our bags, we haven’t screwed up yet.

  9. Ha! Poor SG! I can totally understand making both of those mistakes. Batteries, especially, can be a nightmare if they’re not inserted correctly. Not that that has EVER happened to me…:)

    1. Steve,
      Like you, I’ve never done anything like that. (That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.)

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