The "Hi!" Car Bites the Big One

I'm on vacation this week. Unfortunately the planets aligned against me and conspired to keep my husband from taking any time off, so I'm going it alone like the total badass I am. I am loathe to rub anyone's nose in the coolness that is me, but sometimes it's just unavoidable. You can't keep this kind of light under a bushel, people!

I couldn't figure out what to do during my time off. I kicked around a few different ideas, but none of them really resonated with me until I saw an ad on television. I knew then that I had found my recreational calling. I was going to drive north and brave the wooden rollercoasters at Holiday World. So I'm sitting in a hotel room in Ferdinand, IN preparing for my adventures tomorrow. Hey, I told y'all you'd be jealous. You were warned, so don't be hating on me.

Anyway, I decided to rent a car to come up here. Mine needs its oil changed, and somewhere in my head I decided it made more sense to rent a car rather than just get some regular maintenance done on mine. I guess in order to enjoy this much coolness I had be penalized by the complete forfeiture of common sense.

I surfed around for rental cars, found a place with the best prices, and opted for the "compact" car. I was going to be traveling by myself with minimal baggage, so I just needed enough automobile to transport my happy butt for a few hours. The website said that the compact class was comprised of a "Dodge Neon or similar," so I decided that sounded like a good plan. I sure as hell didn't want to get stuck with a Dodge Neon, but in all my years of renting cars I've always been able to snag something from the "or similar" category, which is usually always better than the bargain basement selection they brace you for in case all the "or similar" cars are already rented. I toyed with the idea of upgrading for just a few extra bucks, but since I was certain I'd get an "or similar" car that would have substantially better gas mileage than the intermediate class, I stuck with the compact. Imagine my horror today when I saw a Dodge Neon roll up to the door of the rental office. Oh, the humanity.

So the craptacular "Hi!" car is parked in the lot outside my hotel, looking impotent and stupid. The interior, which is nylon and as such doesn't really even qualify as "fabric" as far as I'm concerned, smells like pee. It's like sitting on a pair of tightly stretched pantyhose that some poor sap couldn't get off in time when they made a desperate run to the toilet. The car is also equipped with a handsome cassette player, but since Dodge wasn't willing to pony up the extra $30 for a CD player and I haven't utilized a cassette tape since around 1987, I haven't been able to enjoy the full audio majesty of the Neon. More's the pity.

All complaining aside though, I'm having a fabulous time. I really wish The Mister were here with me, but the thought of riding rollercoasters all day tomorrow perks me up substantially.

So, welcome to a Sparkles Plenty vacation. I'm pretty sure the only way I could be cooler than I am would be to give myself a home perm and start wearing a fanny pack.