Side note: while out enjoying a few applebacks and a mozzarella sandwich the other evening with some of my favorite people, I came up with at least six more reasons within a three-hour time period. Warning: this will become a regular series to this blog. I like it. I can vent and poke fun at myself and the situation. And by no means do I believe that these are the real reasons why my long-term relationship failed. That one is simple: we both changed.
Reason number two as to why I’m single: I drive a mini-minivan. The Fit.
Now when I brought this up in conversation at the bar, apparently I’m wrong. Apparently my Fit cannot be a mini minivan because it’s a hatchback. But then I got confused and had to look up the definition of hatchback, which is, as follows: per Wikipedia: Noun: A car with a door across the full width at the back-end that opens upward. Ummmm… isn’t that a minivan?
So I don’t have a sliding side door but have you not seen the shape of it? There is nothing sporty or single about it for that matter. I can’t honestly give you one reason as to why I chose that car other than I wanted something that had good gas mileage for my road trip cross-country. And I should have thought about it a little longer seeing as my road trip hasn’t lasted for the past three years, no matter how much I pretend it has. Or, I should have at least test driven the car instead of pulling up, pointing to the last one on the lot and saying “sold.” IT DOESN”T EVEN HAVE FRICKIN’ CRUISE CONTROL! (sorry mom for the curse word) Cruise control would have come in handy by the time I made it to the New York border let alone California.
Back to the Fit and why I’m single. Seriously though, how many people see a Fit roll on by and think, damn, I gotta know who that is. I gotta know who didn’t think to pay for the alloy wheels, navigation system or the spoiler on the roof. Or a Smart car for that matter. Yes, it came in handy for transporting four kids around like a taxi when I was the best nanny in the world, however, that’s all it’s good for. A family. With kids. I don’t have kids. Nor do I think having room for them in my vehicle is a turn-on for single guys.
You know your car isn’t worth keeping when you’ve had it for three years and it hasn’t even been named. C’mon Fit, my first car (a ’89 Ford Escort– also a hatchback) had a name and got more action than you do: The Lovin’ Oven. And ironically the Fit resembles more of an oven with its spacious back seats that fold down, giving it enough room for a surfboard and more! Insert sarcasm. Here.
I’m gripping to the hope that it’s not what I drive as a single gal, but how I drive it. So for now, I’ll try to keep it out from under any pterodactyls, current with inspections and bumpin’ with the tunes that friends give me as mixed tapes (or CDs with today’s technology).
The Fit is GO!