I can't drive 55

These days, I've really had to work at being good. Actually dating boys instead of just doing the dirty, then cyyyya!

I haven't had any successful dates, maybe it's me. Maybe it's the cars I'm test driving. If a date is a test drive, then my version of casual sex is like renting a car.

Let me explain.

First, I pick a car that looks good. I'm not worrying about mileage, flood damage, or any nonsense like that. I pick the first thing that is shiny, attractive, and no visible duct tape.
Plus, there's the chance that one of your friends might see you while you're...um, renting this car. And you can't let it get around that your preferred mode of transportation is this. It looks more like something you want to wipe a booger on, than something to bang bodies with.




Second, take the insurance (a.k.a. condoms. Or pulling out, if that's what you're into. Just kidding). It may look great, but sometimes cars have been to places that a carwash just can't cure.

Once you hop into that beauty, all systems go, drive it like you stole it. Think of it as a joyride, the legal kind. Best part? You don't have to gas it up when you're through. Shampoo, rinse, repeat.

Some of the cars I've rented:







The Hummer. It's big, it's shiny, it's fun. I actually liked this one quite a bit. I had decided maybe to move past just the renting part of it, into the land of lease with option to buy. The only thing that stopped me was that this one was ill-equipped for me. Let's just say, I was looking for a full meal, and this one offered up only an appetizer.








The Vespa. I'd always wondered what it'd be like to pilot one of these. They're not really a rental type, although that's what I had in mind. They're socially conscious/get good gas mileage/like bands you've (and by 'you', I mean me) never heard of. They could probably run off of tofu, and the Indigo Girls.
I also found out that being with one of these is like being alone, without even a dildo for comfort. Also, the Vespa I knew had little to no sense of humor.
I made the crack "Just because you don't eat meat, doesn't mean you can't eat tuna", and that was pretty much it. The Vegetarian Vespa went its way, and I went mine.
After all the bean sprouts, love beads, and nights of no carnal knowledge, I went for the next car on my list.



The Big Ass Truck. After the bloodlessness of the Vespa, I was badly in need of testosterone. You can practically smell the blood of the innocent pouring from this one.






After all that testosterone, I settled down a little, and one day, as I was toying with the idea of a new car renting experience, I ran across this:







Yes, ladies and gentlemen, that's a 13 on that odometer. Which means, it was as pure as the driven snow.
There's just something about 'renting' a car that hasn't been off the lot. No one's really ever got it up to 65, nobody's ever seen what it can do. Let me tell you, that car gave me the ride of my life. What it lacked in...miles driven, it made up for in..horsepower!




And this last one was purely as a "I need it for my collection".



The Vintage Classic. It had been places, driven miles, and been around a lot longer than I had. This one could show me a thing or two. I was excited, thinking of the experience, the knowledge, the lessons it could teach me.... But, there's a reason why a classic is a classic. It's meant to be admired, not driven. If I had my way, I probably wouldn've broken the stick shift off with my...enthusiasm.