On the ride home from work the other night, my passenger was regaling me with an amusing anecdote of media monitoring and dorsal discomfort when, out of the corner of my eye, I noted a light that had not been there just seconds before.

In an instant, nothing outside the realm of dashboard idiot lights mattered, and I began to hyperventilate, ignoring the on-going tale coming from somewhere else in the cab of my truck "Kitty." Not just one but two lights had winked into existence, and both of them had to do with braking systems. I only have ONE braking system; how can I have two lights? I glared at the yellow ABS sigil staring mockingly back at me for the five minutes it took to get the truck home. And there, the problem could have ended, but no! That night, in my dreams, a gargantuan dashboard loomed in front of me, and while I panicked, one idiot light after another came to life, starting with the ABS Brake light, followed by the Oil Pressure light, followed by something called a "Super Trouble" light, and on and on until there was more illumination than the control panel at NASA.

I awoke the next morning, nearly forgetting that I was not moving my truck that day. Now, the more I think about it, the more I am certain that she (my truck) was telling me that she would go no further until she got her undercarriage tickled by some greasy mechanic. The little slut.