Preaching to the choir

To the gentleman who sold me my house: You owe me a garage door remote control. It was part of the contract that the house would come with the garage door opener and accompanying remote control. I remember specifically insisting that the contract include the remote control because I am a lawyer and therefore pretty anal-retentive when it comes to contract wording. Now most people would assume that the remote control (henceforth the clicker) comes with the garage door opener as the automatic door opener is pretty pointless without the clicker that allows the homeowner to open and close the garage door from the car. But just to be sure, I explicitly included the clicker in the contract. You signed that contract. You failed to leave that clicker anywhere in the house or garage. You failed to return any of my real estate agent's calls. You, sir, are in breach of contract.

So now if I want to put my car in the garage, I have to get out of my car, walk around the garage, go into the garage from the people door and push the button inside the garage. Then I have to go back to the car and finally pull into the garage. The routine must be reversed when I want to pull out of the garage and leave my house. It's really rather annoying. So annoying that I usually don't park in the garage. But sometimes I want to. Especially on a day like today when the national weather service is predicting the storm to end all storms, with watermelon-sized hail. (Ok, the hail isn't supposed to be that large, but the way they've been predicting tonight's "tornadic event" for the last several days, it certainly seems like they want me to be prepared for the type of storm that will have me and my car's windows running for our lives.)

I was particularly annoyed when I ran all my errands hoping to get home before THE STORM hit. I got my car in the garage and got inside. Then I realized I was out of a completely essential item without which I could not get through the night. I did not have kind words for my home's previous owner.

So, good sir, wherever you are, could you please, PLEASE send me my *&$^@* clicker?!? And maybe I won't sue you.