I’m thinking of buying a car. I spend my time swivelling my gaze to check out models I like the look of.
Yesterday walking home from the shops I crossed the road for a closer look at a parked VW Tiguan. I leaned into the tinted window and peered inside only to see someone in the driver’s seat texting on their phone. Oops.
I walked away (quickly) and pretended it hadn’t happened. Robinson used the same tactic on me.
My preference would be an electric car but Psycho Horrible Person has managed to cripple the market so you need to be working two jobs to afford one electric car. I’m working no jobs. Also, with poor charging infrastructure (PHP), you need a garage to plug your car in and I’m a Westie with no garage.
Hybrid is an option, but expensive again for usually a pretty measly electric range.
I toss and I turn. Maybe I’ll buy my last ever petrol car.
This whole torment started a few weeks ago when a blue car turned and parked in front of me as we walked to the Tramsheds. I thought: that’s a good looking car. It was a Volvo xc40.
Now my inbox is full of ads from Volvo dealers. The reviews are good. There may be none in Sydney for all I know, supply chains and all that.
Robinson has sensibly (bor-ing) pointed out that we hardly drive anywhere (we walk) and buying a petrol car is like buying a hearse.
‘We’ll train Nina to be a car cat,’ I retort, ‘and we’ll go away on long distance catastrophes.’
‘Exactly. The first thing she’d do is shred the leather seats.’ True.
Another option is no car at all and just use the Go Get car available in our street, 30 metres away. But it’s small and I’m tall and etcetera excuses.
I toss and I turn.
Any tips from readers out there?