There was no shortage of features on this baby. Advanced Key, Audi Parking System Advanced with rear view camera, power trunk opener, power rear sunshade, rear door sunshades, power door closers, rear vanity mirrors, 4-zone climate control, leather-covered center console, leather-covered door handles, Adaptive Cruise Control, Audi Side Assist and Audi Lane Assist, for starters. Not to mention the Sport Package, with its 7-spoke double-spoke wheel design and a high-polish aluminum finish. Or the Cold Weather Package, with its 4-spoke heated leather-wrapped steering wheel with shift paddles, heated rear seats, and a ski sack with rear-seat pass-through.

But despite the plethora of features at my disposal, the only one I was paying attention to was the windshield wipers. Set on the medium setting, they moved back and forth at a fairly quick pace, wiping away anything that dared to touch my windshield. I watched how they went to the left, then to the right, then back to the left again, and then - egads! - back to the right again.

These cruelly indifferent windshield wipers showed no regret for their aimless wandering and directional betrayal. Left one moment and right the next, it was all the same to them. Such was my relationship with Frank Breadstick.

Frank was my windshield wiper. He took care of a lot of the unpleasantness that I'd just as soon avoid, he helped give me a clear vision of where I was headed, and he was always right there when I needed him. He also tended to be most useful in the intermittent setting, because when he was cranked up too high, it was like hearing the awful sound of dry rubber scraping across glass.

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