When I’m behind the wheel of my 1996 Suburban, I feel like the king of the world, and I credit that to one key inclusion: arm rests.

In our pursuit of modern comfort, automakers appear to have turned to the electronic instead of the physical, and I don’t begrudge them for that. There is admittedly something very nice about a vehicle that can sense your shitty posture and adjust the seat — or throw in a makeover — to improve your comfort. It’s nice to be able to select, down to the very degree, the temperature of my air, to be able to fine-tune the intensity of its blow. But none of that compares to the sheer luxury of a driver’s seat armrest.

“Just use the center console,” you say, rolling your eyes. “It’s right there.”

Alas, it is not. I’m short. I envy people that don’t need stupid heels to reach 5'5", who can actually reach a significant portion of their cupboard space. When I want to rest my arm on a console, there’s a good chance that console is not there. It’s either too low — courtesy of my need to pump the seat’s height to see over the steering wheel — or too far behind me — thanks to the fact that I need to push my seat forward to reach the pedals.

“You don’t need an arm rest,” you scoff. “It ruins your optimal driving position.”

I don’t care. There are legitimate, physical concerns that come with constantly having your neck, shoulders, and upper back tensed, and that’s generally how I end up without armrests. The arm rest gives me stability when I’m driving something larger and need to put a lot of strength into hitting my optimal turn radius. It helps me when I’m driving something smaller and sportier, something that makes your butthole — and also shoulders — tense with thrill.

Blame it on my Taurus nature, my lazy attitude, or the fact that I spend too much time behind the wheel — I seek comfort and there is no reason why I should deprive myself of life’s simple pleasures, like driver’s seat arm rests.

Last week, I joined up with A Girls Guide to Cars in a big celebration of being women writing in the auto industry. We had 22 vehicles from all different automakers — everything from Hyundai to Mercedes — available at our disposal to test drive around Los Angeles. And while I didn’t get to test everything, I did test a lot of things, and the only vehicle with an arm rest was the Volkswagen ID.4 (I’ll have more coming on this vehicle soon, so stay tuned).

Just one vehicle out of 22. Those aren’t good odds for those of us in the world that do not feel the need to strain our bodies at every turn.

This, then, is my plea. It is the hill upon which I intend to die. More automakers need to consider the humble armrest in their ultra-modern designs, because I assure you, there is space for comfort in this high-tech world. Simple comforts, like a plush, movable armrest. It is but a small ask.