J is for Jeep

I drive a Jeep, not a Subaru. I put that in one of my dating profiles—I think it says something about my sense of humor, my personality, my interests, my activity level. My straight friends didn’t really understand it, but I guess that’s to be expected. Lesbians drive Subarus, apparently. I do not know why. I also have a personal belief that professors drive Subarus, particularly Foresters. It’s just a belief.

Anyway, I digress. I traded my old Jeep in a week before I went on my second online date last summer. For the first date, I had my old black Jeep Wrangler, four doors, heated seats, remote start, electric door locks. Basic stuff. I could fit my kayak in the back, no problem.

But then my old Jeep died—it needed several thousand dollars’ worth of work, so I opted to trade it in. For my second date, I drove the new Jeep. Two doors, Bikini (that’s the color, a metallic teal green), no remote start, no automatic windows, no seat heaters, no automatic door locks, but I do love it. I have to take the top off to get the kayak in there, but so far, it’s totally worth it (I tell myself).  Even when the bicycle rack makes getting in the back of it impossible. I can put up with a lot.

Our modes of transport say something about us.  I’ve started getting to know one woman who drives a Prius. My first date had a Highlander, I think. That screams practical to me—conservative. A little boring. The woman I dated for six months had a slightly sexier hybrid hatchback. Sporty and practical. I met another woman who drives a Prius—I haven’t gotten to know her well enough to know how it reflects her really and talked a while with someone who has a Kia (ditto).

It’s interesting what people project onto our car choices. I have judgments about Prius drivers—practical, environmentally oriented, frugal, cautious. Usually, a car reflects something about its owner. I think the Jeep suits me—it accommodates my toys, reflects my spirit, mirrors my ambivalence about costs, and certainly says something about my impulsivity. One friend could not understand how I could have possibly bought a new car without doing a week’s worth of research. I decided in a moment. It could have been the color, the decal on the hood, the shape. Definitely the shape.

I think I have a large capacity to adapt, so practicality doesn’t always rise to the top as a priority for me. That seems to apply to both my vehicle choices and my penchant for falling for women who aren’t always a perfect fit. Consider my straight friend’s non-negotiables mentioned in a previous blog: has to live within 25 minutes, must have been married once before, must be within a certain age range. I can’t work within those parameters. Not only do those constrictions leave me with about three options to choose from, they don’t allow for spontaneity or chemistry.

My Jeep and I have chemistry. I adore my Jeep. It makes room for my messes, my things. So many things. Yes, locking the doors manually is a pain in the ass, but it’s totally worth it. We understand each other. If I manage to find a woman whom I adore, I think I can overlook distance or age or quirks that might make me crazy. I do believe previous long-term relationships are important—at least one that lasted a decade or more. But that seems reasonable enough, like expecting the Jeep to have four wheels, even if I have to crank the windows down the old-fashioned way.

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