smooth ride

SMOOTH RIDE
Not to keep belaboring the point, but I am just tickled beyond description.
I drove home on the interstate the other day on my new wheels. Apart from the fact that I have been driving in fourth gear and not overdrive, it was a smooth ride. It is a little scary how invincible I felt tooling along. No whistling from the almost-closed window, or other, scarier noises. There were no red lights signaling impending disaster under the hood. I began to balance the nervousness in the pit of my stomach at the thought of the payments against the former white-knuckle fear that my tire might pop just as we were crossing the Lamoille River, sending us careening over the guardrail. I began to fantasize about pulling up to my first drive-through experience with the new car. I could easily roll down my window, give my order or deposit, and roll it back up as I drive away. No silly self-conscious laugh as I open the door and explain about the non-working window. No fear that the ladies at the bank will think I'm getting out of my van to rob them. Better yet, I can drive alongside a friend on the sidewalk and talk nonchalantly without opening the door into oncoming traffic. Thank goodness I wasn't pulled over in my old van. Had I opened the door rather than the window, I would have been ripped from the car and thrown face-down on the ground with a gun in my back.

My new car has side airbags and shoulder belts for all the passengers. The mirrors are all there and I can adjust them electronically. The back wiper works and the front wiper doesn't stop in the middle of my field of vision. I think that the best thing is that if I am too cold, I can turn the heat up. If I'm too hot, I can turn the heat down – or open the window.