Lady Driver Detour: A Word On Luxury

dirty car

After my conversation with JMPR President Joe Molina two weeks ago, I have been contemplating the idea of luxury, especially when it comes to the cars we drive. When I do the math in terms of hours, it’s obvious that my car is a huge part of my life: I spend more time with my Ford Fiesta than I do with my boyfriend. That’s love, but it doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s luxury.

My car bears the brunt of my anger more often than my boyfriend does, due mostly to traffic on the 10. I’ll park it under a tree at night only to find it covered in bird droppings the following morning. I consume coffee, juice, and, sometimes, entire personal pizzas in my car and leave all the trash in the passenger’s seat. I drive until the low fuel light beeps…twice.

And that doesn’t feel too luxurious.

“This would never happen if I had a Porsche,” I often mutter to myself, opting to blame my poor Fiesta for L.A. traffic, my general messiness, and the uncontrollable bowels of birds. It’s an abusive relationship to be sure, but when I stop to think about it, I know none of it is my car’s fault. It’s mine …

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One thought on “Lady Driver Detour: A Word On Luxury

  1. My wife is the same way, when it comes to the stuff that accumulates on the floor of her van. She does have help from the 4 kids, so it’s not entirely her. Thankfully no burritos, but plenty of fries and nuggets. But I don’t think it’s the car type that causes this as much as the human that is driving it. Really I’m not blaming you or the wife for the masses of stuff on the floor of the car. It cleans, it will all clean. Drive safe sweetling. And please get stuck in traffic with that boy friend more often, he misses you. Happy day

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