The Tragedy of Luxury

I was driving on a mini road trip with a good friend, headed to our work conference.  We took my husband’s car because, Mercedes-Benz.  This seems really fun and awesome, you know, “oooooh, we’re driving the Benz to conference! Woooohoo!”  But, I actually hate that car.

There.  I said it.  I hate the damn Benz.

Allow me to attempt to justify such a wildly unpopular statement.

We were driving, on a major interstate, at nighttime.  The stupid thing started beeping for no apparent reason, which it frequently does, which led to my friend asking WHY it was doing that.  Well, because it’s a fucking spaceship.  Buttons all over the damn thing, in totally illogical places – or worse – buttons in logical places but that control things you wouldn’t expect them to.  Who designed this insanity??  They were probably promoted to the SOS shortly thereafter.

A few minutes later it starts yelling at me to “take a caffeine break”.  What?  Ok, I’m not normally one to turn down caffeine, but I’m not really sure how I feel about a CAR telling me to stop for coffee (steaming mug icon and all).  Um, hi.  31 years old.  I don’t need to “take a caffeine break” just because I’m driving and it’s dark.  YOU DON’T KNOW ME, CAR!

So then naturally, it starts raining.  Because I wasn’t annoyed enough.  Tap the windshield wiper lever.  SURPRISE!  That’s the shifter.
-Got you good, you fucker!-

Now your fun and awesome spaceship is in neutral, on a major highway, in the fast lane, at night, in the rain.  Seriously.  What drunken ASS approved this design?!?!  Furthermore, how drunk did they have to get all their colleagues in order to also convince THEM this was a stellar idea??

After declaring my hatred for this vehicle, we get to talking about the upcoming move.  I obviously can’t take my car, it’s a lease.  (So yes, I’ll get a car there, and no, we will not be buying it.)  My husband will have a company car, and I, the luckiest girl on the planet, will get to drive a DAMN BENZ.


But I don’t WANT to drive a BENZ!!!!!!

Why, Erin?  What do you drive now?  *Sideways glance*…Honda Accord.

This is what literally happened to her face immediately upon those words leaving my lips:

dafuqYes. Goatee and all.

“I know, I know,” I say, “me and all my #firstworldproblems”.

I am not irrational.  I realize this sounds completely absurd.  But I just can’t do it.  I cannot view a car that makes less sense than my six (AND THREE QUARTERS)-year-old as an upgrade.  And if you’ve ever met my oldest daughter, or heard stories about her, you KNOW that this is saying a lot!!

Now, clearly, I will GLADLY drive whatever car my husband hands me the keys to, because 1950’s.  KIDDING, I’m kidding.  I’ll gladly drive it because the trade off is that I get to sit on the couch in my big, beautiful, climate-controlled house and write blog posts all day.  Cheers.

Erin’s first world problems of the day: I have to drive a luxury car.  And live in a nice house.  And do whatever I want.


2 thoughts on “The Tragedy of Luxury

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s