Stories are not a typical part of the GoodCarBadCar experience, but tonight’s anecdote is burning within me.
The Good Car Girl and I are about to remove our groceries from our cart and into the backseat of the car after an expensive troll through Sobeys‘ aisles and a difficult decision process in front of the painkillers (too much eye time in front of this screen?) As I reached back to the cart behind me for another bag or two, I saw a man – we’re assuming he was 45 years young – circling a dime about thirty feet from us.
/The Google Earth rendition of tonight’s experience, click to see larger image/Rotation after rotation after rotation. I am not callously indifferent. Had he been a she, and had she been over 65 or 70 years old, I’d have likely volunteered help, depending upon the friendliness of her countenance. He only had a couple bags, however, and didn’t yet appear stressed out.
I watched as he trodded back towards the entrance to peer afresh over the parking lot. He was only an aisle off from his original presumed location; just two rows of vehicles and a median in the way. But….
His car was silvery-grey. When silver began to take over the colour wheel in the offices of automaker paint choosers, things looked up. Easily cleaned, somewhat classy, refusing to show salt grime. Then, silver took over the consumer’s colour wheel. Now, every second car in the grocery store parking lot is silver. Or so it seems.
Secondly, he was the driver of a previous-generation Camry. Camry, in North America, is synonymous with quality, reliability, and durability.
As well as commonplace, familiar, ubiqitous, routine. Wonderest thou why he couldn’t find his car? Alzheimers, dementia, high stress – none seemed present. He was driving a silver Toyota Camry.
/And this is the so-called sporty version of an ’03 Camry/The Good Car Girl and I both chuckled. A little less blaa, my friends… a little less blaa would be nice. Give me unique flair, ingenuity, creativity. Escape from the chains that bind your stylistic pens; the bonds that inhibit newer and better proportions from developing. And let this man drive a car with distinguished lines and a vibrant hue. Let it be. Let it be.
