I love my car. Can we just start with that? I love having a car in general, but I especially love MY car. It makes me smile. It's basically a toy. Unlike most of my life, it's more fun than practical. I wanted it before I could even drive and now, it makes me happy to see it when I walk out the back door.
Currently though, it is sick. Apparently, I abused it. I didn't mean to. I've found my way through some intense DC potholes though. So, ok, maybe there is some explanation for damage down under. (That's not abuse then right? I try hard not to abuse Bugsy. I love Bugsy!) Luckily, when your car is sickly and it's an abuse case instead of just old age, insurance comes to your rescue and it pays for a rental car and you don't have to panic quite as much when the nice man talks aboout skid plates and transmission oil and valve bodies and other words you don't understand even though the kind, patient man is talking very slowly without even being too condescending really. Always give in and pay the few extra dollars for rental coverage, all of life can be better. Although you'd much rather be driving Bugsy and have Bugsy home and safe and away from scary Dr. McDealership.
The thing is, until you know what's wrong, you won't pay for a rental car because you might not be reimbursed and that's a giant waste. Especially if you're flying out of town anyway. So, you'll probably just be grateful for the extensive public transportation options. You'll get your SmartTrip card and not think twice about existing without your car for an evening before you fly out. You'll think to yourself: "Home is only 3 miles from here. The bus will be quick and painless." You will end this experience with a newfound respect for all those who survive the bus system daily. I could have walked home twice in the time it took me... First, I missed the bus - the very efficient, 3 minutes early bus, by approximately 3 minutes. Oh well, the bus runs every half-an-hour. Sit at the bus stop. Play Words with Friends obsessively. Wonder why the bus never comes. Realize that bus was the last before the route changes to hourly for the night.
Wait. Pout. Wait.
Get on the bus! Get thrown off the bus at a random metro stop. Hmm. "WHAT? What is going on?" End of her shift. The guy who takes over her route on the next shift? Already left the station. (Sadness.)
So, what the heck metro stop is this? Not the line you live on? RUN. If you RUN you might catch the very, very last transfer. You might meet some lost kids on the platform. "Yes, of course I will show you where to go like a helpful, friendly local!" (Who is in the midst of an giant transportation fail all her own...). "Oh, yes, totally can get you there. That's my line, follow me, we'll switch together and you'll just stay on a few stops after me. Wait. Don't get on that train. No. No. Blue, not orange!" Oh dear. Why didn't they follow me? Guilt. Bad local! You let the children go astray. Good luck lost children. Someday this will be a funny memory of what happens after Taylor Swift concerts in the big city.
Can I just say, I am grateful for my car often - because I love it and it is cute and generally reliable. However, I have crazy, insane respect for you public transportation regulars. Apparently, I suck at it. Kudos to you and your patience and switch savvy. Well executed with your getting home alive and without crying every day.