Ok, let's just drop the theme of Last Christmas for now, shall we? Here's something more up to date: with my last post, about me being all Technical Woman and so on, I very nearly jinxed the hell out of my supposed technical mojo... Only days later, the front light batteries of my new(ish) bike went flat. I had to cycle home in the dark - and by dark I mean pitch dark, countryside winternight dark; you might as well cycle with your eyes closed. Luckily in this country, they have separate bike paths, very good road surfaces (including on the bike path) and the roads are as straight as [for wittiness points, I wish I could insert the name of someone famously extremely straight here, but then there'd probably be some kind of big coming-out scandal the next day and the point would be completely lost]... well, basically, they're completely straight. The Pope? So it wasn't quite as mortally dangerous as it would be anywhere else, to cycle blindly; nevertheless, not exactly a desirable situation. I got home safely, but slowly, and then blithely forgot about the whole thing until the next evening, when again I had to cycle home without lights!
On the third day, I cycled to work and as my morning coffeebreak entertainment I went and asked one of the techs at work for a Phillips screwdriver. It's a piffling little detail, but I do prefer asking for, say, a Phillips screwdriver (if that's what I need) rather than "the one with like a little cross on it" -- Anyway, I got it, and I unscrewed the two screws I had noticed that appeared to hold the light together. Some of those bike lights you can simply flick off the cover by hand, you know, which can be handy - until after a bit of wear and tear you can simply flick off the cover by riding over a tiny bump in the road, at which point it's not that handy anymore. Now, the problem was the opposite: the screws were gone and according to my theory, the light should now open to reveal its ailing batteries. Only it didn't open. The piece of plastic that looked like it should lift off didn't lift, and another piece that as an alternative looked like it might have been meant to slide out, didn't slide out. Even with a fair bit of jiggling, tweaking and pulling, and some poking along joins with a screwdriver (a common flat blade or slotted screwdriver now, not a Phillips!), nothing opened.
In great frustration I went and sent an email to a good friend who happens to ride the exact same bike as I have (it's her boyfriend's bike) to ask her how it's done. Her reply: her bf changes the batteries. But she would ask him how... That evening she and I had company home on our identical bikes - very handy for me, since her lights still worked. On the way, she was saying how she was quite happy to let a guy do that kind of task for her - men need a reason for being, she said lightly. And this would be it, I suppose. Normally about as confrontational as a wet paper bag, in this conversation I suddenly found myself saying (out loud, which is the remarkable part) "No, no, no, I don't agree with that at all! Not at all!"
However, what she said was exactly what I needed to hear. Because when I got home, my mood was such that I was going to change those batteries or die trying! And since I'm still here, writing... No, ok, in reality my mood was more like I was going to change those batteries or rip the stupid bloody bike lights to pieces trying, because if I was going to have to ask a man for help then I might as well give him a real "reason for being"! And lo and behold - 'all' you needed to do, after unscrewing those screws, was to take a large kitchen knife (the slit is too tight for a screwdriver) and apply excessive force, and pop goes the lid! I immediately sent my friend a triumphant sms: Frauenpower!
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