I got what seemed like the millionth compliment on my car today, by a parking lot guy who gathers carts in the Trader Joe’s lot (I wasn’t kidding in the last post, guys). For some reason complete strangers have always found me approachable. It doesn’t matter how much of a resting bitch face I have, or the briskness in which I am walking- I can even pretend to be on my phone (come on- you know you’ve had a fake phone conversation at some point in your life…) but none of it matters. I invite ’em all- the lost, the friendly, the weirdos. I didn’t buy my car with the full intention of adding a bigger intimidation factor to my persona- I bought it because I loved it- (That’s totally me in spirit by the way)
but, I had hoped it might help with my futile “don’t mess with me” appearance. The problem with that?- How often do you see a black Dodge Challenger? It’s not like it’s a Honda Civic or maybe an Altima. If the only example you can give me is on the tv show Archer, when it is being driven by an animated Burt Reynolds, you are proving my point. There aren’t a whole hell of a lot of these floating around.
The novelty of my car, coupled by the fact that it’s driven by mwha, a tiny blonde, has added a new category of approachers: any male who likes muscle cars. Unfortunately for them, their initial eagerness and curiosity is usually left deflated.
Random Guy: Hey there girl, nice car!
Me: Thanks, it sure is
RG: Gotta lotta power behind that, huh?
Me: Eh, actually only a V6, I don’t like to go fast.
RG: Awe well is it a manual?
Rg:….. Whelp, it’s a nice car!
Me: Thanks, it sure is.
This stuff is riveting. Just riveting.