It never fails. I always see those commercials with happy, skinny, put together moms. They're long hair glistening in the sunshine as they usher in loads of kids from a soccer game (miraculously powder fresh, might I add). Or perhaps they're perfect cherub of a baby has fallen into a deep sleep (that seems to exist only in commercial land) because of the perfect classy-ness of this wonderful, magical, family uniting vehicle.
The mini-van.
But, I am no fool. No, mini-van makers, you have not fooled me. I have learned your dark secret.
They're must be some kind of power high that takes over people's body when they put their key into the ignition of a mini-van, because, without fail, they all turn into the 21st century version of head hunters.
Whenever a mini-van is within 400 feet anxiety racks my body. Will they tail me, will they give me the evil stare down? Perhaps today I will get honked at, swerved past, or maybe today will be a game of "chicken" suburban style.
There is no room on the road, you see, for anyone but you...mini-van drivers. And if some pathetic little honda happens to trot across your path you have no fear in going into attack driving mode. Move aside you measly drivers of cars. How pathetic your life is. Clearly we have NOWHERE nearly as important to be as those who dwell in the land of the mini-van. Kindergarten soccer cannot wait for you. Your life cannot be spared in lieu of the bake sale or karate practice. And if you had it your way, mini-vaners, you would probably install saw blades in a secret compartment on your door, T-Bird style, and chop my car in half as you laugh maniacally and pass me by.
Something about that automatic sliding door gives you a power high so far out of my reach that I am in awe. So tailgate your little heart out. Honk and mean mug until your hearts content. Speed past me going 90 in a 50. Give me that mom stare down.
As for me? I will be sticking to Honda's for a while...(and no...that doesn't include the oddessey)
No comments:
Post a Comment