Buckle up! Anyone who thinks women don’t care about cars as much as men do is in for a bumpy ride.
True, we’re not often in the driveway rubbing down the minivan with a diaper. And you’re going to see a lot more Vidal Sassoon in our shopping carts than Valvoline.
But our cars hold a dear place in our hearts — and hold all our junk. This became painfully clear the last time we called AAA. The tow truck driver didn’t even blink when we unloaded a case of Diet Coke, kitty litter and a Sub-Zero refrigerator before he could tow it.
So take a spin with us to see the crazy things women do to show their cars a little love.
A brand new car. Ahh. That gleaming finish. That pristine carpet before the juice box stains set in. Those beautiful seats in original, crayon-free condition.
A new car doesn’t happen very often, unless you’re Amanda Bynes.
But Jenny goes the QuirkOut distance. She won’t drive her new vehicle in the rain or the snow. That’s right, she’d rather take the bus or bum a ride from a friend than expose her beautiful objet d’art to bad weather.
“For a while, I want it to be absolutely perfect,” she says. “My house is under siege. My desk is a disaster. This is the one thing in my life that gets to be perfect for just a short while.”
Hey, Jenny, we get our mint-condition fix in the shoe department. Gleaming finish? Check. New leather smell? Check. And better yet, Manolo Blahniks may be expensive, but they’re a lot cheaper than a new car — though the Smart Car can almost fit in a shoebox.
FILL ‘ER UP
Roseann fondly remembers the days of actual service at the service station. Today you’re lucky to get assistance if your credit card won’t swipe or you get stuck in the rinse cycle in the automatic carwash. (Hate getting out of the car when that happens, don’t you?)
More than once, she’s been spritzed with gasoline and arrived at work smelling like eau de Exxon.
Not anymore. Now she wears old leather gloves and a worn-out jean jacket while she’s filling up. It’s definitely a “Fashion Don’t,” but she’s not in any danger of making the tabloids: “Stars! They’re just like us!”
It’s a great QuirkOut idea, Roseann, so we’re making an embroidered patch with your name on it to sew onto the jean jacket… or a mechanic’s jumpsuit. Your choice.
Like most of us, Tallulah has a to-do list that rivals Michelle Duggar’s, and she makes more stops than any Domino’s delivery guy. She runs errands, rushes to meetings and hauls a full load — otherwise known as the second-grade girls soccer team.
Tallulah doesn’t have time to waste walking from her car to her destination, so she often parks illegally. “No parking” signs don’t stop her. Yellow curbs are a personal invitation: “Here’s your space!” And finding a meter only to find she has no change? Not a problem.
She does get her share of tickets. But luckily this accountant calculates the QuirkOut net cost of her behavior. “I created an Excel sheet to analyze the costs of parking in lots and feeding meters, and then factor in how much money I spend on tickets. In the end, it’s about even.”
If only we were as brave as Tallulah. We’re so paranoid about getting caught by the red light cameras that we wait to check for spinach in our teeth until we’ve crossed the intersection.