Lately I’ve been wrestling with a decision about my car. I drive a black, VW beetle convertible and the lease is about to expire. I absolutely ADORE this little automobile. Her name is Black Mamba, which anyone who is a fan of Kill Bill movies will understand. Before my sweet mamba, I was queen of the beater-mobiles. Usually to mask what a junker I was driving, I’d spray paint it with daisies or other flower-power related design. So Black Mamba was my first “real” car with a real payment. And this month I was forced with the question of whether to give it back to VW, or buy it. The buyout price is fair, but the rust-bucket lover in me says to purchase a mangled civic just to drive to work in. The scooter obsession I have says to just screw the car and get a Vespa. But I also feel true to my sweet, sweet Black Mamba. What’s a fight girl to do?
So today I was still thinking about this on my way to the office, and I passed a cute girl driving a white jeep with the top off. As we saw each other we enthusiastically waved at each other. (This is normal behavior for people who drive beetles and jeeps.) And this is when I realized, I will keep her. She makes me happy. And life is just too short not to wave, beep and smile at complete strangers.