No nasty stories today, sorry. I'm still deep in car-shopping-mode. The update is on that is: I went to the Honda dealership yesterday and drove one of the new Accords, and…I wasn't really impressed. The doors and the dash are too high, even with the seat raised I felt like I was sitting in the bottom of a bucket.
This totally bummed me out, because I just want to do this and be done with it, but I'm not going to buy a car I don't like, even though it's technically the right car for me.
So the Accord is like the guy I know I should marry, because he's so nice and reliable and dependable and all. But we didn't have much chemistry.
And my mind keeps wandering to that sexy guy over there at the Mitsubishi dealership, the Eclipse. (Not the Spyder, you understand – owning a convertible here in the land of liquid sunshine has always struck me not so much as optimism as willful denial.)
Mr. Eclipse – well, his reviews are not as four-star as the Accord. Nothing one can pin down to a specific problem – but he's just not as bulletproof as Mr. Accord. I can't be sure how he'd handle a long-term relationship. But, ooooohhh, he's fast and smooth and fun…
Then there's the dark horse, Mr. Toyota Celica. I think he might be a little…young for me. I see him most often in the company of boys between 18-25, and frankly, he's usually a bit overdressed for my taste. But if I spent some time getting to know him, I might see that he's a great guy underneath it all.
I am firmly resolved to not think about this guy, because he's out of my league. But damn he's fine.