Car Shopping

We need to buy a car in the next few days, and are having fun checking out all the right-hand drive makes and models that we've never seen before. Our rental is a Toyota Tazz (which Katie has dubbed the “Toyota Tard,” though in comparison to what we will likely buy, it's looking better and better every day). Also on the road are vehicles called the Chico, the Cub and a very small car named, appropriately enough, the Midge.

Each of them makes my hatchback Honda Civic, now residing in Katie's parents driveway in McLean, look downright gigantic.

There's also one called the Playa, and for a few brief moments before I remembered that “playa” was Spanish for “beach,” I was thinking this might be a car for Cape Town's wanna-be gansta set.

Driving is an adventure, seeing as everyone appears at first glance to be on the wrong side of the road.

Actually, trying to have a conversation while driving is the adventure. Most sentences from the driver include a mantra, a little koan we've adopted while behind the wheel. Those sentences might sound like this: “I really liked the apartment where they-[beginning turn] we drive on the left, we drive on the left, wedriveontheleft, jesus, jesus…”

Meanwhile, the person in the passenger seat, unaccustomed to riding while sitting in what should be the driver's seat, riding with a driver who isn't used to needing to calculate the extra couple yards of their own car that are on their left, might end a sentence something like this: “…grocery store, and then later, we'll-WATCH OUT ON MY SIDE!”