I borrowed my dad's Volvo for a few days because my car was low on gas. That's lame, I know. Honestly, I always hesitate to fill the gas tank because I'm convinced my car is going to die at any moment. Wouldn't that be just a shame to -- on top of the car keeling over -- to have just filled up the gas tank? So anyway, I've got the Volvo, which has been also useful because now I do things like, say, drive over 35 miles per hour, and fasten my seatbelt on the first try, open the trunk without the alarm system going off, and, most importantly, transport things like say, my keyboard, which doesn't fit in my tiny little Volkswagen. I love borrowing the Volvo. (I love all things Swedish, actually, except meatballs.)
The tricky part is now negotiating my miles-driven so that I don't steal Dad's rollover. It's at 199968 or something right now, and the only thing worse than missing your own rollover -- you know, when you pay attention for the last 5 miles, then think about something else by the time it rolls over -- is when you loan out your car and someone else gets to watch those numbers flip over. FWT and I stole Friend Who Drives a Smart Car's 10k rollover once, and we felt terrible about it.
I understand that most of you out there -- you folks who have fancy cars that contain computers -- don't get the enjoyment of watching those old-fashioned alarm clock style digits actually roll back into the dashboard and seeing the zeros sneak their way up. For you, the numbers just change in a flash. But this ol' 1992 Volvo is going to have a wonderful rollover, half-filled with nines and half with zeros.
I must budget my driving so that he can enjoy this simple pleasure on his own.
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