In Sweden - Park

I like to think that I'm fairly up to date with modern technology. I can programme a VCR and work a fax machine just as well as the smartest University graduate. I may not know what an mp1 or mp2 is, but I'm listening to an mp3 right now, as I write this...ok, so it is The Beatles, but they are all over the news media at the moment and you do have to admit that some of their stuff is still very fresh, even 40 years after it was written.
Over the years I've used hundreds of different car parks and I've never had a problem paying for my ticket. The machines are all pretty much the same, sure the slot where you put the money in might be in a different place on some versions, but generally they are familiar to the car park user and designed so that even the hard of thinking can use them. Our hotel in Stockholm had decided to sell their car park to someone else, so even though the car parking spaces were right outside of the hotel entrance, they denied all responsibility for them.
My wife and I decided to get the cases up into our room and then I went down to pay for the parking. Armed with a pocket full of credit cards I went to a machine exactly the same as the one in the photo which accompanies this post. Looks innocent enough does it not?
1. Insert credit card
2. Look at screen
3. Scratch head
4. Remove card

Hmm....
1. Insert credit card the other way up
2. Look at screen
3. Scratch head
4. Swear
5. Remove card

REPEAT ALL OF THE ABOVE FOR THE NEXT 15 MINUTES.

There are not too many combinations of things to try when it comes to credit cards. I am always under the impression that the further away I am away from Britain, not only will it take longer for the transaction to go through but occasionally the data that is read from my card may get a bit scrambled. Also, whilst I am willing to accept that artificial intelligence may well be superior to my own, I'm not willing to give in without a fight.
The real problem was that I couldn't make head nor tail of what was written on the screen. Even the diagrams were unhelpful and seemed to bear no relation to what I wanted from the machine.
I finally had to swallow my manly pride and go and ask the receptionist for help. She rather unhelpfully directed me to another machine which was located about five minutes walk away. It was exactly the same as the other machine and to be honest, one attempt at getting a ticket from it should have been enough...my wife found me on my knees, beating my head against the button which was supposed to deliver me a ticket.
My wife speaks 4 languages but unfortunately she doesn't speak Swedish...she does however speak common sense and she led me back to the receptionist and she asked her to do it for us, which she happily did, all the while wondering why I had a round indentation in the centre of my forehead.