On Hot Cars

I think I know what her problem is.  She bought a hot car. 
See, when a guy buys a car like that, people say, "OMG.  He bought that car because he’s having a mid-life crisis.  He bought that car because he thinks it will help him to meet women.  He bought that car because he is trying to impress certain people." 
And if any of those things are true, he will find out that a hot car might make him feel a little differently about his screwed-up life.  Or he might discover the kind of women you can meet who are interested in being seen in a car like that.  Or he may impress certain people, but maybe not necessarily the way he wants to impress them. 
What he really ends up with, and he should know this from the beginning… forget about the mid-life crisis and the women and impressing people.  What you should know and expect when you buy a hot car like that, is that you will have an intimate relationship with a hot car.  Which may seem to be a pain in the ass, sometimes, but in reality it is its own reward.  His life may still be screwed up, and women may still ignore him, and he may not impress anyone other than the spiteful acquaintance who might otherwise not even consider scratching his paint.  But the truth is that he has entered the realm of a superior driving machine.  He has to find occasions to get it out on the open road, test it, get to know it, and discover America, so he can better appreciate this hot car that he spent all that money for.
Women have kind of discovered this.  A hot car is a dude magnet.  Check out the roads where you live.  You will see otherwise uninteresting women driving cars that are much hotter than they are.  You can only hope that they are enjoying the relationship they have with the car, because… well, let me tell you a story.
Once upon a time I met Mustang Mary.  Mary had a hot Mustang.  It was a mid-1990s GT with a ragtop, leather interior, four-speed manual transmission, well cared for, in really good condition.  Mary put that car ahead of herself, in a lot of ways.  After all, it was her only car, and she drove 45 minutes to get to work every day, and then another 45 minutes to get home. 
I saw the car first.  I said, well, the car is hot, maybe she’s hot too, so I went for it.  She let me drive it a few times, too, just for fun.  It had been a while since I drove a car that had a clutch, but I remembered how.  And she had tickets to a concert in Reno, so she let me drive the Mustang to Reno with the top down.  Pretty exciting stuff.
One day I got a phone call from Mustang Mary.  She told me the guy who usually changes her oil was vacationing or something, and she needed an oil change now.  She asked me if she brought six quarts of oil and a filter over to my house, would I change the oil in her Mustang.  I said OK, because I know how that is.  It’s my religion, too.  Whenever my 3000 miles comes up, I am ready with filters and jugs of oil, and that vehicle does not move until after I change the oil.  So she brought the Mustang over and we put it in the usual ceremonial oil-changing place. 
Right away, I found out I could not get under that car.  I had to raise the car to get to the plug.  The filter was in a funny place, too.  But I did it all by the book, and I lowered the car so it would drain, and then raised it again so I could put the plug back in.  She had a real exotic kind of oil, too, called Royal Purple.  You might pay two dollars for a quart of oil, but Royal Purple is like eight dollars.  But I did all this and she was happy. 
But the time came when I had to realize that I had done just about everything with that car that I might have done if I had owned it.  Yes, it was hot, but it wasn’t that big a deal.  And let’s be honest, the Mustang was hotter than Mustang Mary.  If Mary had been truly hot, it would not have mattered what she was driving.  You might even know that if Mary had been hot enough, she could have had no car, and I might have bought her one.  But the time came when I had to say goodbye to the Mustang, and Mustang Mary.  There’s no telling how disappointed she was. 
So this other one, what I’m saying, she has the same problem that Mustang Mary had.  She went out and bought herself a hot car.  She hasn’t even had it a year yet, and she’s furious.  We have no way to find out how many guys have pretended they liked her just so they could drive that car once.  But once was all they could stand, because the truth is, her car is hot, and she is not.  I mean you could go to the zoo for that.  She’s disappointed that the hot car has not done what she hoped it would do, and she’s not satisfied with just having a relationship with a hot car.  Which was really all she was buying into in the first place, and she still has probably four years of payments to go.  That’s what I think her problem is. 
Heck no, you could not get me interested in driving her car.  Besides, I already know one who’s truly hot enough that I bought her a car, and all that is still good and true and built to last.  Why would I bother with this other not-hot situation?  Her network is weak.  Her spies are no good.  I totally know the answer to this one. 

About comdude

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