My car was totaled. I had assumed as much.
I drove exactly one car and decided that was the car for me. Did I say car? I meant minivan. It was bound to happen eventually. The accident just accelerated our timeline.
|My face illustrates my general feelings about owning a van.|
Honestly, I love it. My only complaint so far is that the bluetooth connection using the UConnect system in my Chrysler Town and Country isn't as great as the bluetooth connection using OnStar that my Chevy Equinox used. NERD ALERT!! I'm also unsure if I can load movies I've bought on iTunes into the van's hardrive (my van has a fucking hard drive!). Signs point to no, but I'm still hopeful.
As I drove today, I was getting acquainted with all of the buttons on my steering wheel. One of the options is to show the speed of the vehicle on the screen on the dash. Somehow I got it into kilometers.
The momentary panic I felt as I read that I was going 88 reminded me of the following story:
After my freshman year of college, I decided to take a few classes over the summer. I decided to take these classes at Oklahoma State University. At the time, I was living in Ohio.
Luckily, I already had a place to stay out there with Laura, a friend of mine. Her twin sister Linda and I would drive out together and attend classes and live with Laura. In the mobile home she lived in. Don't be so jealous.
We quickly became part of Laura's social group. This was quite generous on her part as I wasn't 21 yet and seriously limited the selection of bars that I was legally allowed in to.
One night, we had spent the evening at the Tumbleweed and were headed home in a friend's truck. I had a few drinks that night and was at that stage of inebriation where woozy borders on slurry. We were driving through the main street in town in the wee hours of the morning when I happened to look at the speedometer.
It said we were going nearly 60. I guessed that the speed limit was 25, maybe 35 max. Internally, I freaked the hell out. Why were we going so fast? This is a bad idea. Why didn't I just stay home?
Then I remembered that we were riding in a Canadian's truck. That shows the speed in kilometers.
Not entirely related, but Linda married that man.