Baby I Can’t Drive My Car

Living in Manhattan has so many advantages and pluses and wonderful things I can’t possibly list them all.

I can and will, however, list one negative that bothers me a ton – not having my “own” car.

I mean yeah, sure, I could have a car, but it’s kind of a pain in the ass and super expensive. Even if I had the money (I don’t) to pay an extra $600 a month just to park the damn thing, I don’t think I would. Seems rather egregious to pay that much simply to have something sit somewhere underground and drip oil on the concrete 95% of the time.

In NYC you don’t need a car. Not really. So, I can’t justify the purchase/expense.

Though damn Sam it bothers me I don’t have one. Because those half dozen times a month I wish I did it really chafes me I don’t. Plus, I won’t deny I’ve got that super strong American gene in me that says, “You’re American you’re supposed to own a car dummy, it’s how we do things here.”

Though really sometimes I just want to get the hell out of this city. Just literally drive away from it. Bop down to Philly. Or visit my sis outside DC. Or just go have dinner at my parents on Sunday. Sure, all this can be done with Zipcar (we’re members) or even public transportation. But, with both of them I’m “on the clock”. And well, the car isn’t mine (see American reference above).

I love owning a nice car, too. One with lots of gadgets and tech. Having my stuff already in it. Knowing all the controls and bells and whistles. Having the seat be perfect. Even just the smell of it. Getting behind the wheel of your own car and just going with no plan, no timeframe, and no destination is the best.

I really miss just taking a drive.

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