Ridin' Dirty

About six weeks ago, I got rear-ended downtown. (I'm shocked that I didn't post some long-winded rant about sassy bitches who can't drive, but nada.)

Basically, she hit me, then threw me an attitude...which I threw right back. I'll see your huffy temper tantrum and raise you one snarky battle of wits.

To make a long story short, while our insurance companies haggle out who's fault it was (hers), my cute little Volkswagen is sitting in the repair shop. Luckily, State Farm is providing me with a rental car at no charge.

Because the rental company was short stocked the day I picked up my car, I had my choice between a tiny station wagon/tennis shoe-looking thing or a regular sedan. I opted for the sedan and chuckled when the man at Enterprise handed me keys to my brand new Chevy Impala...holla! (I definitely asked whether spinners and tinted windows came standard, or were an extra charge.)

It amuses me to no end to cruise around in this absolute boat of a car. It's like a full-size sofa on wheels with a ride so smooth a crater wouldn't rattle gramp's dentures (or Nelly's grill). An added bonus: it has a stereo system to rival the best of them.

And hey! At least it's not a minivan!