TRANSPORTATION VINDICATION

After one too many free vajeen shows on the public bus, I put my foot down and declared that my public transportation days were OVER. B was driving maybe seven minutes tops from our house to his work every day while I was schlepping my life around like a bag lady from car to train to corner to bus capped off by a half-mile walk to the office two sweaty hours later. And just like Jennifer Lopez circa the 2002 movie Enough, I had ENOUGH.

So this month I have been taking B's car to work in the city while he rides his bike to work and it is glorious. It has changed my life forever and I will never go back. Granted, it's still an hour in the car each way and there's often enough traffic to raise the blood pressure a smidge and make me curse every godforsaken resident of Massachusetts, but I still save HOURS of time each day and return home in the evening with my spirits buoyed.

I'm no longer a slave to the clock. You will not find me sprinting down the commuter rail platform in South Station or waving my arms frantically as the number 7 bus roars past me down Summer Street or crying softly in my seat as the man in the bucket seat next to me trims his toe nails. That's the old Bridget. The new Bridget drives a CAR like a BOSS.

And after less than one month of pedaling his little bike to and fro in our town, B has decided that perhaps now is the time to start thinking about getting a second car. Not three years ago when I first suggested it. Or two years ago when I really began insisting that maybe it was time. Or last year when I said that it would really be practical if I had my own car. Or even earlier this year when I threw myself to the living room floor and begged not to be made to get on that bus again.

And why is that? Could it be because I constantly complain about the state of B's disgustingly dirty car? Or the idea of both B and I having the freedom to drive somewhere without having to schedule car time well in advance. Or the fact that his car eats gas faster than a fat kid stuffs his pockets in a candy store? Or even that I demand to drive something that has a working air conditioner because it's really just impractical to be driving to board meetings with some major swamp ass? No. It is none of those things. It is because B is tired of riding his bicycle. And you know what? I'll take it.

FINALLY my very own car is so close I can taste it! I'm 25 years old and have never had a car before. This is a big deal for me. It's like getting your first bike without training wheels. And it's exactly the bike you wanted with the purple handlebars and the white pedals and the pink streamers and oh my gah I think I'm going to pee my pants. Again.

And speaking of that first bike? I loved it so hard. I worked to keep it in perfect condition for as long as possible. You want to talk about OCD? I was a fucking spaz when it came to that thing. And I still vividly remember the day I was riding down the street with my friends and my little six-year-old self got a little too close to the curb. My perfect white pedal scraped against it for a few feet until I regained my balance and pulled away. And when I jumped off to examine the damage, I saw about two inches of the smooth plastic on the side of the pedal was now rough and scraped, as you would imagine happens to plastic when you scrape it against cement.

I. Lost. My. Shit.

I furiously pedaled home and tearfully begged my parents to take me to the bike store IMMEDIATELY so I could get a new pedal. I NEEDED a perfect pedal. This one was RUINED. It would NEVER do. Naturally, my parents told me to get over myself and my request for a new pedal was promptly dismissed forever.

On that note, I'm a little nervous that the first time I get a slight ding in the new car that I don't even own yet, I'm inevitably going to revert back to my six-year-old self, roll up into a ball, and cry because my car door isn't perfect anymore because I can totally see where the shopping cart touched it. This is currently on my mind because I recently shattered my near perfect driving record when I slammed on the gas in my driveway on a pre-dawn morning and backed right into my sister-in-law's car that I forgot was parked behind me. Lucky for me I married into a family of assholes who will NEVER let me live this down. Love you guys! Back into my new car and I will pee on your pillows! Kisses!

But you know what the most ironic part of all of this is? After nearly a decade of fantasizing about zipping around in my very own car, now that I've FINALLY been given the true green light (PUN! ZINGER!), I don't even have time to go car shopping. I'll be on vacation for the next two weekends. Then B and I have friends visiting every single weekend from now until forever. But mark my words, I WILL find the time somewhere and it WILL be amazing. Considering this, it may be a little premature, but I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say that victory? Belongs to ME! Woo!

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