Car Slut Confessions: A Man(ual) On The Side

Alright. You want the truth? I’m not satisfied at home. Nope, not even close. On the outside, it all looks perfect– I get all the action I want, with a real hottie, the type most women would kill for, but when it comes to giving me real joy, we just don’t connect. I am of course talking about my daily drive.

IMG_5658

I drive a luxury SUV, which for all intents & purposes, is fantastic. Except for one thing– it’s an automatic.

“But’s it’s got manual mode” they told me.

“Paddle shifters–just like F1” they said.

“You’re gonna love it” they assured me.

Guess what? I don’t. In fact, I’m seriously considering getting a little stick action on the side. Because I’m a woman who loves to drive and frankly driving a car that’s not a manual just doesn’t butter my biscuit.  It’s like being a vegetarian, I’m down with all the veggies you can boil, but at some point, I’m gonna smack someone over the head for a steak. I’ve even caught myself peering into parked cars to admire a stranger’s shaft/stick/nob*.  So the madness just has to stop.

Here’s the only problem:

LA traffic manual

I spend the majority of my time in LA traffic which, when you’re driving a manual, basically means you’re wrestling between your left foot and your right arm until you eventually give up and coast in 2nd.

But then there are the times when the freeway is clear and the authorities are otherwise occupied by a presidential visit/donut run/freeway chase and the open road is up for grabs. When that happens, gunning it to 85 just isn’t satisfying, any idiot can do that. Running through all 6 gears with the radio blasting & the sunroof wide open, now that’s something an idiot like me can embrace. 

And then there are the canyon roads:

LA traffic manual

When a road like this is clear, driving an automatic is like listening to a record skip– even though you know it will end some day, the misery just seems endless. However, in a manual, these s-turns are like a good make out session– you know exactly where it’s heading & you can’t wait to get there, but it’s so great you almost wish it would never end.

But my car and I just don’t make out. It’s just wham, bam, thank you ma’am.  And while that’s often useful, Mama could sure use a little quality time with a good clutch right about now.  I mean, I may be an Angelino, but I’m sure as hell no vegan.

*-If you ever wondered if the car world was male-dominated, perhaps you’d like to ponder those euphemisms.

1 Response

  1. Frankie says:

    What do you say you and me go in on a fun little stick? 50/50 joint custody? Also, me needs a MHMama bumber sticker for my boring drive. Where you a get one of those babies?

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *