Yet again this week I found myself suspecting I might have lesbian tendencies, though this time it had nothing to do with the tingling feeling I sometimes get when I see Jodie Foster in her pants.
I'd been driving around in the new Subaru Forester - released in South Africa in early July 2008 - and happened to tell a lesbian friend.
I mention this casually as if to imply I have many lesbian friends and am thus more broad-minded than the average motoring journalist, though sadly I have only one and she hasn't had sex since 2003 and that was with a man.
"You know that's a total dyke's car, don't you?" she laughed.
"What do you mean?" I said. "Subarus are for everyone, they are famously classless. Toffs love them, farmers love them, I love them."
"Maybe," she said, "but just Google 'lesbian Subaru' and see what I mean."
Turns out she's right, particularly in the US where there are special clubs for Sapphic Subaristes - they call themselves Lesbaristes. They are particularly keen on the Forester, it seems.
Martina Navratilova once fronted an ad campaign for them that resulted in a sales increase of 50 percent.
Clearly Martina has terrific taste in cars. The old Forester was brilliant: reliable (regularly featuring in the Top 10 customer satisfaction surveys), practical (it had a washing-up bowl in the boot) and, with the punchy flat-four engine, every bit as fast as the Impreza on which it was based.
You could practically hose down the interior, and they even designed the door handles with extra deep recesses so you could open them while wearing chunky mittens.
But the new one is rather different. Unlike previous Foresters it doesn't look like it was built with Lego bricks. It's sleek and vaguely futuristic. It also sits much higher, almost as high as a proper SUV, which must affect cornering.
Subarus should be slightly non-conformist, eccentric even, but I fear I detect the smoothing, conformist hand of Toyota, which is gradually increasing its stake in the company.
The Forester is still a great car, and much nicer inside than the old one, but it has lost some of the puritanical functionality that I suspect - without wishing to stereotype anyone - was what appealed to its improbable female niche.
And me. - The Independent, London