Black Coffee - Driving Extreme Suckitude, #1

Ten years ago I moved to New York City. One of my last acts before returning to my native land was selling the car I’d bought a few years prior. I haven’t owned a car since.

Until last week. I am now the proud owner of a 1997 Teal Ford Escort Wagon. And while I had driven some over the post decade, it was only a few times a year, and I wasn’t faced with the daily things that just seem to happen when you own a car. (by the way, that photo isn't my exact car, but it's pretty close.)

Don’t get me wrong, I love having a car, I love the freedom it affords, and I love this car. It’s a kick ass mobile, that doesn’t need to be tricked out to say I’m bad ass. I mean, come on, you’re either a soccer mom, a hippie, or a bad ass when you drive what I do. And I ain’t no soccer mom. Ok, maybe a hippie, but certainly no soccer mom.

But still, there are some things that need to be pointed out. Those mere moments of Extreme Suckitude that suck the joy out of the driving experience.

Extreme Suckitude #1 - Realizing for the first time that the cup holder in your car isn’t quite deep enough to hold in place that delicious iced caramel latte you just bought…after you make your first turn…

I suppose there are worse things my car could smell like…