My One True Love

I really really love my car. It’s kind of weird to some people, and admittedly I am kind of weird in many ways, and this is one of them I suppose. Many people love their vehicles. We all laboriously choose an automobile of our very own from the millions of options and become quite emotionally involved. Everyone wants something different in a car, and for me, the Mini Cooper embodies everything I could ever ask for. No, this is not an official endorsement, or an unofficial endorsement. But seriously, they are so freaking cute!

When I began planning my great journey across the country, I contemplated road-tripping in little Rosie-Rose for about .5 seconds before I decided that was a terrible idea. The next order of business was to find someone to ship my precious from Richmond, VA to Walnut Creek, CA, which in total is somewhere in the neighborhood of 2,800 miles. NBD (Ma, NBD = no big deal). This is where knowing someone who owns a big rig would have been convenient, but unfortunately my life up to that point had not granted me the pleasure of meeting such a character. Which meant I had to enter in my info on some obscure website which apparently sent my name and number to every car-shipping broker in these United States. It is super fun to answer the phone 9 million times per day while I’m BUSY at WORK and hear this each time: “HELLO! Miss uhhh *mis-pronounce my last name terribly* I haveaquoteforyoutoshipyourMiniCooperitwillonlycostabilliondollars” *deep breath* “anddon’tlistentoanythinganyoneelsetellsyouIamtotallythebest!!” *another breath* “itincludesinsuranceandyouwon’tfindabetterpriceanywhere” and “don’thesitatebecausethispriceisonlyavailableforalimitedtime!!!” Yes that’s pretty much how they all went. One in particular, however, charmed me via telephone. Michael (real name) of (doesn’t even sound like a real business) was consistent/persistent/annoying in calling me just about every day, typically 2 or 3 times per day, until I acquiesced to ship my car through him. Really I think his tactic worked quite well because eventually I just got stinkin tired of him calling me. Also though, my tactic worked quite well, which was to be all hemming and hawing over the price and letting him know that I was just so stressed and busy with work and just so nervous about shipping my lovely that I was breaking out in hives every time I even thought about it! Just playing. But seriously,  I must have played the coy customer well because he ended up giving me exactly what I wanted. Which was a deal, obvs.

ANYWHOOZ. Bottom line is this: if you ever have to ship your car, you drop Miss Sassy a line first and I’ll send you the name of my trucker man who was so nice and caring for my little girl. She arrived safe and sound in just 5 days, no dings or scratches to be found.

I cannot describe accurately just how much joy that little hunk of metal brings me. It’s sort of weird and a little silly. But I can say this: it is totally worth that monthly payment when I beat everyone (other than the bajillion Porches and Lamborghinis around here) at every green light, and when I zip around slow people on the interstate, and when I take exit and on-ramps at twice the suggested speed limit. And when I see other Minis on the road and give them the peace sign, it makes me giggle when they wave back. And when I can park in the special low emissions/fuel efficient/compact vehicles only parking spots, it’s a little exciting. It is probably the best purchase I have made personally to date (I’d say my education is the best purchase, except I didn’t personally purchase it. Thanks Poppa Pants), even above all of my shoes. I know!

Something else I super love about having my super-duper love out here with me in this crazy place is my good ol’ VA personalized plates. Little Rose turns heads for numerous reasons, and I love passing people in a parking lot or somewhere and catching them looking at my plates, and then immediately looking in the car inquisitively, like, “Oh look, Jim! Someone from Virginia! What does someone from Virginia look like?!” Followed by, “Yes Sally they sure do seem to be normal looking from out there!” Which is probably followed by, “Where exactly is Virginia??” Anyway. It’s funny, and I get some good laughs. The other benefit of course is a benefit anyone with out-of-state plates can enjoy, is having an excuse when violating minor traffic laws and flailing around having no idea where you are going. You know, that person. I just smile and wave, knowing my plates are saving me. Plus the car is just so darn cute, how can anyone get mad? They can’t, of course.

So when I say my car is my one true love, that’s obviously an over-statement. I do love it, but honestly I’m hoping the position of my one true love will someday be filled by a real live man (had to mention men at least once, sorry). But Rosie does for me what no man could ever do. She brings me joy and keeps my irritation level down when I commute to and from work, or encounter idiots on the road, which is every day. Find me a man that can weave me in and out of traffic, make me happy when I’m surrounded by incompetent drivers, enable me to park in a low-emissions spot, and save me from colliding numerous times with other vehicles and inanimate objects, and I’ll gladly trade her in.

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