Last weekend, I took a trip and rented a car. It was a perfectly nice car, a Nissan Altima - my go-to make and model for business or personal travel. This time, however, it drove me crazy, and it wasn’t the poor car’s fault.  

Driving requires an interplay of conscious attention and unconscious reaction - a dance that can terrify us when we first learn to drive, but then settles into a familiar routine as we become one with our vehicles over time. If you’re like me, you probably don’t think much about driving while you’re doing it.  

About eight months ago, I bought a Tesla. Learning how to drive an electric car required some adjustments, but after a few miles of abrupt acceleration and deceleration (looking at you, regenerative braking…), I was back on autopilot (not self-driving features, just good old muscle memory). Sure, the car did some things differently, but my malleable brain re-wired its expectations, with me barely noticing.  

Until I rented a car for the weekend, and the truth became clear: I am officially spoiled by aspects of my Tesla’s user experience, with annoying and potentially dangerous consequences. 

My Tesla does four things that I have come to subconsciously expect. Other cars, electric or gas-powered, may offer these same features - I can only comment on my own experience. At the risk of sounding like the spoiled brat that I am, here are four features that undid thirty years of neural programming in just eight months: 

1. No keys required.

I still remember the power and exhilaration I felt when my parents gave me my very first set of car keys. At sixteen, they were a jangly symbol of independence and freedom. Later, as an adult with my own car, an apartment, an office, etc, my key ring grew along with my responsibilities. (If you have a lot of keys, you’re either the CEO or the janitor. In a small business, you’re both…)

Fast forward to today, and it blows my mind that I don’t carry keys at all. My Tesla’s “key” is my phone, which is always on me (for good and for ill). (There’s also a key card, but no need to carry it if your phone key is enabled.) When I approach the car with my phone in my pocket, the doors automagically unlock (ok, it’s bluetooth, but it feels like magic). I park in a garage attached to my house, so I don’t even need a house key. I work remotely, so no more office keys. In a world where women’s clothes are still sorely lacking in pockets, I love not having to carry keys.

Until I’m on this trip with a rental car, and I keep leaving the car key in the hotel room! It wasn’t really a key either - it was a fob, which means I didn’t need to actively turn it to start and stop the car. So when I arrived at my destination, I’d leave it in the car, too (face palm). Thirty years of a key-carrying habit, undone in eight months of Tesla-driving. It’s a miracle the rental car wasn’t stolen.

2. Ladies and gentleman, start your engines - or not.

Once I managed to get in the car with the key fob, I would instinctively put on my seat belt, depress the brake, and put the car in gear. Except that it wasn’t on yet! Yes, folks, with a gas car, you actually have to start it. You would think I would remember this simple fact - I’ve been driving since 1986. But no, every time I got in this rental car, I would fail to start it. And worse yet, when I arrived at my destination, I would fail to turn it off! I can only imagine what the car was thinking about its clueless driver.

3. Well, hello, Kathi, let me set that seat for you…

My husband drove this rental car too. He’s a full foot taller than me. When he drives, he has to position the seat all the way down and all the way back, just to get in. When I drive after him, I can barely reach to close the door, and my feet stretch for the pedals in vain. Switching drivers means adjusting the driver’s seat to its polar opposite position; this is particularly annoying in cars like our rental, which had a manual seat that needed to be “pumped” to be lifted.

At home, thanks to the phone key, the Tesla knows which one of us has opened the door, and adjusts the seat automatically to fit. Such hospitality! My car wordlessly greets me by accommodating my needs, without me lifting a finger. By contrast, the rental car seemed just plain rude. Yes, I said I was spoiled.

Despite these challenges and inconveniences, I did manage to safely drive this rental car to the various destinations on my trip. Thirty years of muscle memory helped me remember to actually use the brake pedal when I wanted to stop, to turn on the windshield wipers when it rained, and to adjust for all the other automatic actions that had felt disorienting when I first started driving my Tesla. There’s one Tesla feature, however, that I hope I never have to live without for very long:

4. Ding! Your light is green!

My favorite unexpected pleasure when driving my Tesla is the fact that, when I’m waiting at a stoplight, it makes a pleasant little chime when the light turns green. How considerate! Now I can adjust the radio, take a moment to meditate (breathe in for four, hold for four, out for four…), rest my eyes, etc., without annoying the person behind me by not proceeding the second the light changes. (No, I would never be looking at my phone while waiting at a light, no, never.)

As humans, driving is one of the most dangerous things we do on a regular basis. Muscle memory and countless hours of practice help our brains develop shortcuts that manage the details, so we can focus on the unique situation each time we get behind the wheel. These patterns are both robust AND malleable, which will become only more important as the technology we use every day shifts and changes under and around us.