There is a peculiarity in females that I find completely entertaining. Our gender argues with machines. We really do. It is not unusual to be in an intense dialogue with inanimate objects insisting upon then expecting an immediate response. I’ve observed the argument with an ATM when the $30.00 needed for a night out didn’t spit into their hands after pushing the appropriate buttons. Self-service store lanes find us grumbling at the scanners when the machine doesn’t cooperate with our need for a quick exit from the big box store.
Behind the wheel of my automobile in uncharted territory I will be caught telling the GPS in no uncertain terms she does not know where she is going. I have a female voice on my GPS so of course it’s a she, which probably compounds my frustration. I set my destination, listen to her quite long enough, and then determine she has absolutely no idea of which she is speaking. I will most assuredly not drive two miles ahead only to make the next legal u turn. After concluding my GPS is thoroughly inept I emphatically mute her and go the direction I think best.
I experienced one of the funniest female versus machine displays when we were checking my mother out of the hospital. Executing all proper paperwork required to secure my mothers escape brought a precious 70 plus volunteer to the room in pink smock pushing an empty wheelchair. Gently getting my mother into the chair and through the door was the focus of this chatty little lady. I gathered all the flowers and get-well cards in the otherwise empty hospital room. Loaded with the rest of my mothers’ belongings as I had been instructed, I obediently followed this commanding little fireball to the elevator. The ride down was uneventful, dialogue between the wheelchair pusher and my mother consumed the trip.
On the ground floor we exited the elevator then headed toward the hospital door. I glanced ahead, spotting my husband pulling the car to the curb for pickup. It was at the mechanical exit door I bit my lip as hard as I could. This was an attempt to keep from laughing as I watched this tiny pink powerhouse in action. Strolling the wheelchair to the rubber mat at the doors exit she pressed the button. It began to open; she rolled forward as the door began to shut. She backed up and repeated her act unfortunately with the same result. Not to be dissuaded she tried again. This happened four times before she took that door on.
Four attempts with no cooperation this lady had built up the steam needed to began her full on affront. Verbally assaulting that door she repeatedly hammered the button. Telling it in no uncertain terms it would comply and do so now, she actually beat that mechanical door into submission. It opened wide. It wasn’t that the machine really heard her but respond to her it did. We promptly marched through the door and loaded my mother into the waiting car.
Observing this diminutive gray haired lady you knew she would never give up. The things she said to this hospital entrance were cause for both admiration and fear. She had no doubt her argument would be won. I believe that door could still be open. After 70 plus years of life she knew victory would be hers. That lady never doubted her strength.
Ladies don’t doubt your strength. So when you find yourself faced with the challenges of a piece of technology that won’t cooperate don’t surrender. Like that little pink hospital-volunteer we females will win every time.