I don’t know alot about cars. I only just learned how to lift up the hood and check the oil a couple months back when The Boy asked if I’d done it. The Fourth Quarter felt he had to explain what ‘safe’ psi levels were, when he realised I was just putting ‘the air thing’ in my tyre and leaving there until it beeped. I’m happy to admit that while I know how to drive, I know very very little about how my car works.

So when I went to leave The Boy’s this weekend I had a spaz when I realised the key wouldn’t turn in the ignition. It actually would. Not. Turn. I thought it might have been the dreaded immobiliser or something (something I’d heard about, and sure my car had, but had never actually seen the effects of) so I locked and unlocked the car and tried again. No luck.

My Dad once mentioned something about the handbrake needing to be down. It didn’t make much sense. I’m sure he was talking about something else at the time, but it didn’t hurt to try. So I dropped the handbrake and tried again. Fail. And then I decided that perhaps I should put it in neutral, and maybe that would do something.

It didn’t. Mostly because my car is an automatic and it won’t let you move the gearstick until the car is on. Siigh.

In the end I admitted defeat, and fetched The Boy. He got in. Jiggled the steering wheel and just like magic the key turned. He laughed at me, and tried to explain it away as the ‘steering lock’ or something. I’m mostly convinced it was magic, and that my car is a hussy that is partial to cute boys.

I think it’s safe to say that me and the mechanics of cars are NOT destined to be friends.