This morning after grabbing my Dunkin' Iced Coffee, I waved to our building security woman and walked up to the elevator keypad.
For some reason the button wouldn't light up to signal the elevator was coming down to the lobby. Only after about a minute of frustration did I realize I was trying to call the elevator by holding my building security pass in front of the button and waiting for it to light... Amazingly, my frustration ended when I took the more conventional route of pushing it.
This is quite possibly even worse than the time my husband and I went to Lucca in the Back Bay right before Lexi was born. After perusing the menu, I looked at Nick and said, "Well, I think I'm going to have the 10 and 22." Confused, he asked what the hell I was talking about.
"Isn't your menu numbered?" I asked as I pointed to the salad and pasta dishes I wanted to order. Nick looked at me, and realizing his wife's I.Q. had dropped numerous points over the previous nine months, sadly told me, "Those are the prices!"