I Got a New Toy

My slightly wacky friend G often tells me about the pleasure he derives from filling the empty space inside him with the joy of a new car. It's a feeling he experiences over and over again - he owns more than 200 cars, all classics, and he's always on the prowl for a new one.

I haven't experienced this very often. I often say that I'm only loyal to friends and dogs and cars - jobs, apartments and men are usually short-lived experiments. In fact, I've only owned four cars in my life.

Well, five. I bought a new one today. Not a new new car, a gently used one. The car I've wanted for years. A Jetta. With a sunroof. And leather upholstery. It's a dream.

It's such a fabulous car that I'm almost afraid to drive it. Everyone who knows me knows how quickly I can turn a nice car into one that you might not want to ride in. I can even make a rental car look disgusting - usually within a day of picking it up.

But I'm starting a new chapter in my car book. I swear. No smoking in the new car. No coffee. No more giving rides to homeless people. And the dogs aren't even going to find out I bought it. They have to walk to the vet from now on.

Buying a new car felt only slightly self-indulgent. I really need something shiny and nice in my life right now. The last four months have been hell. So I got a new toy.