Rental Cars Aren't Intuitive Anymore

I rented a car in Oregon.

The plan was simple. Pick up the car. Drive to the motel. Easy peasy.

But no.

Every automobile manufacturer seems to have its own ideas about where everything should go.

My adventure began before I even left the rental lot.

The first leg of my flight had charging ports in the seatbacks. My phone was nearly fully charged, so I didn't bother plugging it in. The airport where I changed planes didn't have a convenient charging station.

No problem, I thought. I'll charge it on the second flight.

The second flight, however, had apparently decided electricity was an optional luxury. No charging ports. By the time I landed, picked up my luggage, and reached the rental car, my phone battery was down into the teens. Normally, that wouldn't concern me much. Except I was depending on Google Maps to find my motel.

Suddenly, charging my phone wasn't a convenience. It was becoming a requirement.

So I climbed into the rental car and began looking for a charging port. Nothing. No problem. That's why manufacturers include owner's manuals. I opened the glove compartment. There it was. Not a little pamphlet. An actual owner's manual. A book. A fairly thick book.

Excellent.

I put on my prescription reading glasses, opened the manual, and discovered that whoever selected the typeface had tremendous confidence in the average person's eyesight.

I could barely read it.

Eventually I surrendered and asked the attendant at the exit gate. She leaned in, reached into the console, and pointed to the charging port.

Wonderful. Except I didn't have the correct cable. Apparently my phone and the rental car had incompatible philosophies regarding electricity.

So off I went, watching my battery percentage slowly tick downward while hoping Google Maps would remain conscious long enough to get me to the motel.

Several days later, I needed gas. I pulled into the waiting line at the station.

Then another question occurred to me.

Which line? Was the fuel door on the right or the left? I knew there was supposed to be a little arrow somewhere on the dashboard pointing toward the correct side.

I also knew that, at that particular moment, it had absolutely no intention of being found.

I looked. Nothing. I looked again. Still nothing. Finally, I looked determinedly in the side mirrors until I spotted the fuel door. Left side. Excellent.

I pulled into the proper line.

Progress.

Now all I had to do was open the fuel door. There had to be a button. Or a lever. Or... whatever modern cars have decided to replace buttons and levers with.

I searched the dashboard. I searched below the dashboard. I searched around the driver's seat. I searched every place that looked remotely capable of hiding a fuel door release.

Nothing.

At this point I began to suspect the fuel door opened only after solving three riddles and obtaining permission from the vehicle's onboard computer.

Fortunately, this particular state still believes in full-service gas stations. I rolled down the window and asked the nice young man for help. He found the release in approximately three seconds.

One unexpected advantage of becoming an older woman is that young men are remarkably kind. They don't sigh. They don't roll their eyes. They don't say, "It's right there." They simply smile, solve the problem, and send you on your way.

I appreciated that.

Somewhere along the line, automobile manufacturers decided that every driver would instinctively know where everything was.

At the same time, every manufacturer apparently agreed that if one company put a control in one location, everyone else should hide theirs somewhere completely different.

I'm sure there are excellent engineering reasons for this. I just don't know what they are.

I eventually found my motel.

I eventually found gasoline.

And I eventually completed my trip without permanently embarrassing myself.

Although I remain convinced that renting a modern car should come with a brief orientation, a laminated cheat sheet, and perhaps a friendly teenager assigned to answer questions like, "Where on earth did they hide the charging port this time?"