Can you find the random part?

This would be a lot simpler if someone would just tell me if the alternator is the round, shiny thing or the square, shiny thing.\nAs it is, my car remains lifeless, surrounded by mean-spirited vehicles that actually have power. When nobody is looking, these vehicles use their headlights and knowledge of Morse Code to tell my car that it's a complete loser.\nWhich, to be truthful, it is. The tape player is broken, the seat belts don't protect, and every once in awhile, I discover that someone has put a hot dog on my antenna. That's just wrong.\nCars have feelings, too. Unfortunately, cars require power to have feelings, so Lumi (my car) is dead out of luck. It's not her fault, though. Her stupid owner (that would be me) left the interior lights on, draining the battery, thus turning Lumi into the equivalent of a giant cardboard box with wheels.\nQ: So why don't you just get a jump?\nA: Because Lumi's hood release doesn't work.\nQ: So why don't you try to fix it?\nA: Because that would require me knowing the difference between an engine and refried beans.\nQ: Don't be stupid. You know the difference between an engine and refried beans.\nA: Okay, so maybe I do. One giveth gas, and the other taketh away.\nBut I don't believe that little factoid is going to get Lumi running any time soon. So, I do the only logical thing I can think of and call my parents who express their sympathy in the form of, "I guess this means we have to come up there."\nLuckily, my step-dad knows how to fix cars.\nUnluckily, Lumi is a skilled masochist which proceeds to break herself the second after my stepdad fixes the hood release and gives her a jump.\n"Seems like the alternator's not working."\n"Where's the alternator?"\n"Take a guess."\nI hate the "Find the Random Part" game. For all I know, the alternator could be in Cleveland watching the football game. I take an extremely long, thoughtful look at the many different things surrounding the engine, any of which could be the elusive alternator, and discover that I've gained a whole new respect for the profession of auto mechanic.\nOf course, the object I point to is something completely not the alternator. \n"In fact, that thing could possibly blow your hand off."\nThat's reassuring. My already angst-ridden car has the ability to dismember me. This is information I really wish I didn't know.\n Well, it's now time to go to an auto parts store to buy a replacement. Wandering around an auto parts store has always made me feel kind of like Busta Rhymes at a Peter, Paul and Mary concert. Any second, I fear that someone wearing a Harley shirt is going to walk up to me and ask if I know what a carburetor is. And I know with all my heart that the second I tell Mr. Harley a carburetor is a protein drink, is the exact same second God will strip my masculinity away from me.\nI realize that knowing absolutely nothing about cars doesn't make me less of a man, but unfortunately someone failed to send that memo to the other millions of men in this country. Luckily, I was able to avoid Mr. Harley and the harrowing experience that was sure to follow. \nPlus, Lumi is now fixed, which should give me a few months to learn where the alternator is. Maybe I'll buy a plane ticket to Cleveland.