I don’t give a toss about cars. I drive a 1997 Honda Civic as little as possible. It still hasn’t clocked 80,000 miles.
In the 1980’s when Dwight and I were looking for our first car together, a salesman proudly led us outside. “I have just the car for you guys.”
We couldn’t believe our eyes: the car was detailed like a racing car. I expected the doors to be welded shut, Dukes of Hazzard-style. This salesmen probably believes he’s never talked to a homosexual.
I prefer public transport. I get to kick back and watch people and cityscapes. I can take a bus from the end of my block to the edge of the city, then walk home.
In a city, a car does not represent freedom for me.
Today, I’m on the largely rural island of Kaua’i, Hawai’i. There is some public transport but it’s impossible to coordinate it with trailheads. I just need a car the size of a wheelie bin.
Advantage Rent a Car was out of wheelie bins at Lihu’e airport when I presented last night at 11:00 p.m., jet-lagged. No, I would not drive a mini-bus.
I was then offered a Camaro at the same rate as a wheelie bin. “The rate is over $100 a day, and you get it for $14 a day,” the agent encouraged.
This did not excite me. “Is it a small car?”
He pointed at a smallish yellow vehicle. I felt no rush of excitement.
“Will the trunk hold my backpack?”
We went outside and tried the trunk for size. It just fitted, provided I did not lower the roof, which apparently cohabits with everything else in the trunk.
Note to self: Do not accidentally hit the roof-lowering button.
Trying to stoke some enthusiasm, the agent told me “It’s got GPS.” I tried to sound grateful, but privately wondered why I would need GPS on this small island.
I declined all the fuelling and “insurance” options, and drove off.
At least they'll see you coming.
I'm laughing. I abandoned it in the hotel parking between two gray cars. The thing is positively pulsating in the sunlight, and my eyes can barely see the gray cars.