
Beep-beep-m-beep-beep yeah!
I’m not much of a car person. I was raised by an engineer. Those of you who have an engineer in the fam know that they are perfectly practical in every way. My perfectly practical father, aka The Voice of Reason, taught me and my sister that cars are merely transportation. You buy what you need, you buy what is just a bit below your means, you buy what consumer reports deems reliable & safe, and you’ve bought yourself peace of mind. Engineers
thrive on peace of mind. How very Zen of them.
Recent study after recent study concludes that if you are looking for Car Nirvana in this world, you should stick with a Honda/Acura or a Toyota/Lexus.* Everyone in my family worships at this altar, except for my sister who was recently kidnapped and brainwashed by the Nissan cult. (She was always the more rebellious one.)
I shower my sister with grace for her choice because a. I believe Nissan/Infiniti rank third in recent study after recent study and b. who am I to judge when I completely lost my mind a few years back and decided to purchase a European car.
Oh, this car was
cute. (I won’t mention any names because I don’t want to get sued.) But let me just reinforce that this car was CUTE. And everyone marveled how it matched my perky personality and my petite, mini stature.
I chose this car in a moment of vulnerability. A teenager totaled my Honda, and her insurance company was so generous as to give me three whole days to shop for a new car. In my desperation, I propelled myself into the arms of flair and flash. “Forget practicality -- I am traumatized! I am hurting! I want…no, Dad….I NEED this car to make me feel better. This car makes me feel stylish and sexy and….and….this car is rare -- Only four cars of this color were sold in the entire
state! And ….and….Barrett-Jackson says it’s the next collector’s item!! Beep-beep-m-beep-beep yeah!”
Thus began my journey into Car Hell.
That car proved to be the bane of my existence. It mocked me every day when I entered my garage. “Maybe I’ll start for you today, maybe I won’t. Maybe you will need to tow me to the closest dealership in Timbuktu for the umpteenth time!!”
It taunted me during its monthly visits to the shop in Timbuktu. “You want your transportation back? Fork over another grand, sister!”
It sneered at me when I waxed sentimental over my deceased Honda. “You ventured out of Car Nirvana to explore Car Hollywood. This beauty is only skin deep. Sucker!”
Barrett-Jackson was obviously smoking crack
Approximately two years into this dysfunctional relationship, I decided that The Voice of Reason raised me better than this. I drove Ms. Skin Deep as quickly as I could to the nearest Honda dealership. I turned her pathetic, vapid self in, and I left with a sassy red & reliable Honda. Ommm…..
Reflecting on my recent foray into Car Hell (which, mercifully, turned out to be a less-than-eternal Car Purgatory), I couldn’t help but see the parallels to dating. Or more specifically, the parallels between men and cars.
Recent study after recent study concludes that my fair city is the Worst Place in America to Find Love. In other words, I reside in Dating Hell. As an evolved, emotionally intelligent woman, I would love nothing more than to achieve Dating Nirvana. But this can be a challenge when you live…well…in Dating Hell.
I attribute our city’s infamous distinction to our high proportion of flair and flash. We are close enough to L.A. where we have absorbed their ways through municipal osmosis. (I realize that I am making generalizations here, and that there are exceptions in both cities, including you and me, of course. Please don’t send me hate mail.)
Therefore, my city boasts an inordinate number of Skin Deep men driving Skin Deep cars. A large majority of these Skin Deep cars are…let’s just say…environmentally irresponsible. This is appalling anywhere, but it’s particularly alarming when we live in a city whose federal funding could get yanked if we do not literally clean up our act. An ominous brown cloud hovers above us, but who gives a crap? It’s all about looking gooooood.
My personal favorite amongst these Mr. Skin Deeps is the Hummer driver. Who on earth needs a Hummer, I ask you?!?! The military? Yes. The Mr. Skin Deeps? No. Go ahead, Mr. Skin Deeps. Keep on thoughtlessly driving your monstrosities to compensate for your lack of penis size and your obsession with blow jobs while the rest of us (including your children) choke on the brown cloud as our interstate crumbles.
Beep-beep-m-beep-beep BLECK!
I could go on and on about men who drive similarly obnoxious vehicles, but it’s too draining, it’s an utter waste of time, and I have to shave my legs and get ready for the ballet tonight.
This is what it boils down to: we have two camps of cars and men. They mirror one another, if you will.
Camp Hummer et al. pitch their tents in Dating Hell. They are flashy, narcissistic, and depreciate very early on. They drain precious energy and deplete bank accounts. They are utterly unreliable – maybe they’ll be there for you, maybe they won’t. They are always thinking about trading up.
Vs.
Camp Honda/Toyota et al. pitch their tents in Dating Nirvana. They are attractive with a touch of style, but with no desire to flaunt it. They are environmentally responsible and socially conscious. They are reliable and hold their value (as well as yours). They are content sticking with a good thing.
Women, we
deserve men from Camp Honda/Toyota.** Now, I must admit, I grew up in the arts, so I tend to have an eye for all things aesthetic. If I were asked to create a wish list, I would prefer an Acura or a Lexus man. And a hybrid definitely gets my heart fluttering a little faster.
I am ready to take a test drive. Does anyone have a Get Out of Dating Hell Free card, by any chance?
*For the purposes of this post, kindly ignore the recent snafu that involves an 8.3 million car recall. I devised this theory long before the snafu, and I would rather not recall my theory at this time. The way I see it, Toyota is facing its existential crisis, and with proper spiritual guidance, will emerge as a Car Warrior once again.
**For the record, I would rather not date a recalled man. Only certain Toyota/Lexus models may apply at this point in time. Thank you for your understanding on this sensitive issue.
***Dad, are you sure that the Prius was not recalled?!?!