My mother cares for me. Deeply.
Therefore, she is quite concerned that I haven’t taken the time to get my Dodge Intrepid and its rebellious transmission fixed.
At some point in all our phone calls she asks, “Have you taken your car in to the mechanic?”
“Yeah, of course.” I reply.
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Hans doesn’t have much confidence in our car.
That’s okay, our car isn’t large enough for extraneous things like ‘confidence’.
The sun was setting as team Gobi or Go Home sat around drinking Seattle’s finest espresso at Vivace on Capitol Hill. They were getting ready to close, and Shane and Roberta were getting antsy about going to work.
“Dude,” I pointed across the street, “Let’s go look at that Smart car.”
You see, Seattle has recently been infiltrated by hundreds of white and blue Smart cars that you can just hop in and drive somewhere. It’s like ZipCar taken to the max. It’s particularly handy for three people planning on driving to Mongolia, because the Smart car is about the smallest car you can find on the road in the US. Surely, it could give us some perspective.