This is it, folks. I'm living the urbanist dream, thanks to a note left by a stranger in my windscreen.
It turns out my somewhat poorly cared for Honda is a bit of a collector's item, and was someone's realistic dream car. I had just been on a road trip along the Great Ocean Road, and enjoyed what I'm assured are very normal conveniences in rental car a quite a lot.
Look, I wish I could say that this has radically changed my behavior and my outlook on life, but it's kind of the other way round. I sold it because I didn't really use it - and the times I did use it, it was increasingly apparent that it only just barely fit my needs.
(and by my needs, I mean my dog, who has this alarming habit of continuing to grow?)
People do keep asking me if I miss it, though. Not in a "how are you getting around" sense, but in the emotional sense. Which I kind of get? I guess? It was my first car, and my only car - maybe the only one I'll ever own as myself rather than with a partner. I owned it for ten years, which probably makes me it's longest owner, although I have no idea how to check.
But, to be honest, the answer is no. If I was sentimental about cars, I would be the guy leaving the note, not the guy with whom the note was left. If anything, I'm happy it's gone to someone who appreciates it, and who can hopefully take better care of.
Getting in the driver's seat of a car always had kind of a complicated emotional valence. Usually, I had planned ahead so badly that driving, and doing the traffic and the parking and the counting of the standard drinks was the only option. Because - and I'll get off my soapbox in a sec, I promise - the alternatives really work quite well when you think ahead, and it felt like I was paying for the privilege of being able to plan poorly.
The other, I dunno, ten percent of the time? I was going on a road trip, and it was awesome. I remember the first time we took it down south with Grace's family, when we had the realisation that... we didn't have to stick with the adults. We could just do our own thing - get up late, or bail early, or make our own plans entirely. That - and, I guess, the discovery of drinking, is what made me get the south-west.
It was a fun car to drive, too. As my new mate Jarrad said, it was a slow car, but that just makes it more fun to drive it fast. The bendier the road you're doing it on, the better
And look, maybe that's why the car we took on our road trip was appealing too. It had a pure, road trip aura, its vibes unpolluted by commuter stress. It weren't no sports car, but it did have a sports mode, and the roads had some top-tier bends. And maybe if we tried to bring that home with us, we'd end up with mixed feelings about it too.
And maybe I am sentimental about cars after all.