I don't know anything about cars.

I mean...I drive one, so I know how to do that. I can put gas in it, though I've proven that I lack skill at that as well. Carba-what-a-rator? Transmission who? I'm absolutely clueless, and I knew that it was only a matter of time before this cluelessness was put on display for all to see. Hence my little incident last week.

At about 9:30 PM last Wednesday evening, I pulled into my parking spot at home. I turned off my car and started to head off, dreaming of a nice calm night of couch surfing and relaxation. I was stopped in my tracks however when I saw that both the brake lights AND the parking lights on my car were still on. Confused, I began turning levers, pushing knobs, and generally fiddling with anything that I thought might be the source behind the unwanted illumination. I turned the car back on, and then off again, a process that I repeated several times to no avail. I got out the car manual, and found nothing in the "trouble-shooting" section that pointed me in the right direction. I began to to fear that they would never go off, and I would either just have to let my battery die a slow death, or I would have to sleep in my car, periodically turning it on so I could preserve the life of my battery. While I was madly fiddling with all the levers and knobs in the car, my friend Jeff called me. I thought, "Perfect! A boy! He will definitely know what to do!" Unfortunately he immediately informed me that he knew nothing about cars, suggested the possibility that I might have blown a fuse, and told me that he had to run because he had to get back to "The Bachelor." Thanks Jeff.

Next I called my parents, the previous owners of the car, in hopes that one of them had experienced a similar conundrum at some point during their ownership. I figured that perhaps they might have a quick remedy readily available. When my father answered the phone he became immediately frustrated with me, and ordered, "Look at the manual and figure it out yourself. You're a big girl." My mother sensed my panic, got on the phone, and told me to drive to a gas station and find a nice blue-collar boy to help me out.

So I did just that, and I had to go to four gas stations before I could find anyone who would give me even the slightest bit of assistance. Granted, it was late, and the service areas of most of these gas stations were closed, but aren't people who work at a garage at least supposed to know SOMETHING about cars...and if they don't...shouldn't they at least PRETEND that they know something about cars? I mean really, poke your head in the car, fiddle with a few buttons, do anything!! Lord knows I wouldn't know the difference. Instead, when asked for help, four brawny men, some with dirty greasy hands, pleaded ignorance when asked if they knew anything about cars. Finally I found a nice guy at a Shell station who agreed to help fix my car. Mind you, I use the term "fix my car" loosely, as all he did was poke his head in the window, look around for about two seconds, and flip a random switch under the steering wheel. Then he laughed at me. My humor gone at that point, I thanked him nastily, and pulled away with the sound of his mocking laughter ringing loudly in my ears.

I'll leave the obvious issue of unchivalrous men aside for the time being, and move on to a more important one: Why in the hell did Subaru install a small switch on the underside of the steering wheel that permanantly illuminates the parking and break lights on the car? Why is this a practical feature? I can't think of a single instance in which I would ever have the need to turn those lights on permanantly. Maybe it was just some jokester over in the engineering department at Subaru who wanted to bring a little humor into the lives of his auto mechanic friends. I suppose I'll never know.