Behind the Bike Shed
A secure bike shed has been erected behind our offices, next to my parking space. Electronic passes, locks and cameras have been installed to assist the green-conscious in their bid to offset the carbon footprint from my big-ass Megane.
Despite the security, there has already been a theft from it, so the powers-that-be have turned to more extreme measures to protect the contents.
The Megane is a very duck-friendly motor. No keys, just a card that has to be about my person, which in proximity to the car, opens and locks doors, windows, sunroof, activates alarms and immobilisers and switches wipers, lights, CD player and engine on and off - so no fumbling about in handbags in the rain looking for keys.
Brilliant.
However, in the last three weeks, when accessing or exiting my car by the bike shed, the Megane has failed to respond to the card signal. Mmm. This has meant standing next to it, trying all the doors and windows, shouting, jiggling my handbag and even in desperation, fishing the card from its depths and waving it about in the general direction of the car.
Still nothing.
It's definitely not the card, because it's functioning normally at every other location the car is require to pass time. Nevertheless, I tried bringing along the spare card and waving the two together in a bizarre, synchronised ceremonial car-activating dance, with appropriate swearing as backing music.
Nothing
Now, bear in mind that it's usually cold, dark and rainy when I arrive and leave work, so hanging about by the bike shed, arguing with a stubborn red car is not my first choice for recreational activity at the beginning and end of the day. I've even resorted to removing the little battery disc from the card, licking it and putting it back*. I probably would have been better pointing it through my head à la Clarkson.
I can only conclude that a spell has been cast over the bike shed, or an invisible forcefield placed around it by its owners. Either that or it's a time portal for bees to return to their home planet, and the Megane is cleverly resisting its gravitational pull.
Either way it's unstoppable, so I've thrown in the towel and moved spaces. Now at a safe distance of 20 yards, normal service has been resumed.
Although I fear for the little Fiesta, still parked there, at the mercy of whatever demon is at work.
*This did actually work a couple of times.
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