With all the sophisticated stupidity prevention technologies like blind spot awareness and automatic parallel parking capabilities going into new cars these days it’s nice to slide on to a torn cloth seat, wrap your fingers around a frayed steering wheel, and stomp the accelerator hard. You are free to racket over the horizon in a haze of smoking blue glory without a socialist computer redistributing all your power.
You can snub your nose at the BMW driver while he’s blowing the horn and passing you on double yellow lines knowing that if he spent five minutes in your death trap he would die a horrible death.
Sure, he may be driving faster but you’re a better driver.
Seriously. You have to judge curves about six hundred feet ahead because that’s how long your car takes to react to your white knuckled, wide eyed steering attempts. Your frantic cursing wakes up the power steering pump which yawns, stretches, makes a cup of coffee, drinks it, then starts to fiddle about with your rack and pinion doohickeys. Your tires start to screech and thrash about which makes them smoke and heat up. They finally start gripping the asphalt, grabbing every loose stone on the shoulder in a last ditch attempt to stay on the road. You peel one hand off of the steering wheel, speed up to 30 mph, and start breathing again. You cheat death several dozen times each time you go to work but you are still alive thanks to your finely tuned connection to your metal death trap’s maneuvering process. Know what that process is called? Driving.
When you finally get to where you are going you pull over and let the long line of traffic behind you go past. You notice the screeching sound has stopped. Turns out it’s the guy in your passenger seat that was doing all the wailing, not your tires. He pulls his fingernails out of your dash and starts breathing again. Guessing by his reaction, he must not be used to the process of driving.
Now you have to get your contraption in a tiny spot. No problem! You don’t need parking assist since you’re a good driver, remember? You have mirrors and you know how to use them. You also have cheap plastic bumpers that have so many bumper hickeys and scratches on them that you would never notice another ding or two. You use this feature to your advantage and back up until you feel a soft WHAM that gives you some slight whiplash. Then you ease slowly front and gently love tap the Mercedes in front of you. Then you back up just a little. Nailed it. No computer needed.
When you are done doing whatever it was that was worth risking your life to do, you come back to your spot and find they towed your car. No matter. You paid five hundred dollars for that junker. They can keep it. You bring up Craigslist on your mobile device and put $100 in the “minimum price” field and $600 in the maximum. Now browse the local selection and find a car worthy of your skills.
You are well on your way to becoming a truly great driver. It’s also quite possible that you may remain single for the rest of your life.