Apparently I Enjoy Wasting Money and Ruining the Environment
So.
Today the rental car agent handed me the “keys” to a 2010 Prius. I was all “Sweet, now I can tool around town like the cool kids!”. That was, until I sat down in the driver’s seat and was unable to turn it on. I’m sure I sound like a crotchety old geezer now, but cars need keys. Not fancy buttons and silent engines that you don’t even realize are running until you turn them off-on-off-on-off for 10 full minutes.
But, the excellent gas mileage! you exclaim. It can go a babillion miles on a single tank! Pshaw. Once I realized the car was actually operational, we were off and running. Or crawling, rather. Despite my frantic pedal-stomping the car moved like a geriatric turtle. Then, after about 10 to 15 seconds, the car shot forward like someone goosed it. I stomped on the brake, which felt oddly like stepping on a half-inflated cow bladder.
Thank you, but I’ll keep my Honda Accord. It gets good gas mileage, has intuitive controls, and when I step on the gas it hauls ass. I have never been unsure as to whether or not her engine was running. When we ease to a stop not a drop of my beverage is spilled. And, most importantly, when I have a split-second to enter the rush hour fray, I know she’ll pull through.
