My Car Can Do Anything

My car can do anything. My car drives around town fast as fuck with me behind the wheel. Beep beep. My car guzzles down gasoline and uses some type of reaction to turn it into motion. Vroooom! I hop into the driver’s seat and off I go. It’s awesome.

My car doesn’t even need to stop at red lights. All the other cars pull up to a red light and just roll to a stop right there. The light pins them to the ground. One time, a while ago, I drove up to a red light and stopped, just like I always used to do. I was sitting there and I was thinking about how cool my car was. So I just let go of the brake and pushed down on the accelerator, and my car just drove right past the red light and through the intersection, smooth as butter. Man I love my car.

My car likes to take corners really fast. I like it too. When you drive fast enough, there’s not really enough time to see what’s around the corner. At just the right speed, you can see and process, but not react. My car reacts for me. It knows to crumple its bumper if it hits a telephone pole, or swerve erratically when it encounters a patch of black ice. My car knows what needs to happen, and makes it happen for me.

When I’m not in my car, I think to myself, Damn I wish I was in my car right now. I stand on the axles of my grocery cart when I’m in the store and zoom down the aisles. Back when I had a desk chair I’d pull the lift lever under the seat and pretend I was shifting gears, even though my car is automatic and handles all that stuff for me. When I’m in the doctor’s office I make putt putt putt sounds with my mouth. I used to be in the doctor’s office a lot. They don’t like me very much there. They try to tell me all types of things I don’t want to hear. Surgery, yeah right. Lying unconscious on a sterilized table? I’d rather be driving my car.

Vroom vroom! Outta my way! My car doesn’t care about crosswalks. The only time I use the rear view mirror is to watch terrified pedestrians rising from the ground after diving to safety. I bet they wish they were in my car. Fat chance, idiot. I stack up milk crates in my passenger seat and buckle them in. My back seat is filled with rolled-up carpets from my old house. There’s no room for anybody else, and I like it that way.

I can roll my back windows down by pressing a button on the front door. Isn’t that crazy? I can make music play. I can make air blow. And all of this just by pressing buttons. Fuck I love my car. My car can do anything. I don’t spend much time in other people’s cars, but I’d bet a billion dollars their cars can’t do all the same stuff mine can. My car can take an off ramp at eighty miles an hour. I’ve never seen anybody else’s car do that. Because they can’t.

I don’t really sleep much anymore. I lie across the carpets in my back seat for a couple hours and I think about whatever. I drift off a few times maybe but I always end up back awake, sweating and itching. So I get up and I climb into the front seat and just drive around for a while with the headlights off. If I start getting tired behind the wheel I honk the horn a bunch and that wakes me up. My car’s horn is nice and loud. My car is red.

You wouldn’t believe how much money I spend on gasoline. I barely buy groceries just so I can afford more fuel to put in my car. I haven’t bought new clothes in a couple years. The majority of my budget is gas. It keeps my car going. I put the gasoline nozzle into the fuel hole and just stand there for a long ass time. Sometimes gas starts going everywhere. I don’t know if it’s called a fuel hole or not. I don’t really know that much about cars. I know how to turn the wheel and push the pedal and go fast as fuck. I don’t really know what the parts are called though. That stuff doesn’t matter too much to me anyway. If you’re poking around inside a car you’re not driving it. I don’t have that much money left.

Fuck! Just thinking about my car is literally making me happy! My car can fly, by the way. Yup, if I pull a secret lever under the seat, my car takes off like a rocket ship and zooms around up in the sky. I don’t activate that mode at all, in fact I never have, but I know it’s there because sometimes when I’m driving I take my hands off the wheel and put them under the seat and I can feel a lever under there. I don’t have to read my car’s manual to know what the lever does. I don’t have to read it to know anything about my car. There’s stuff I just know. I don’t have to look at anything to know about it. When my eyes are closed, I can still see whatever I need to.

I stopped going to the doctor a while ago. Every time I went they told me I needed to come back. I did keep coming back for a stretch, but only because it was somewhere to drive to. From my house to the doctor and back. But once I stopped being at my house I didn’t really need an excuse to take a drive, so I stopped going to the doctor. They called me a bunch for a minute but I sold my phone on Facebook. The only reason I still had my phone anyway was for my car’s Bluetooth functionality. Yup, my car can connect to electronics using radio waves. Pretty neat, no? When I still had my phone, I would connect it and disconnect it from my car over and over to hear the little chime it made. That was back when I still liked sounds. I don’t like sounds all too much anymore. That’s why I wear my little rubber earplugs when I drive.

Sometimes when my eyes are closed I see myself driving my car really fast into one of the pumps at the gas station. There are about twenty school buses there, fueling up or parked for the driver to grab a pack of cigarettes inside. The buses are loaded with kids and doctors and pedestrians, all packed in there so tight that their faces are squeezed up against the windows. My car impacts the pump and it explodes, sending a near-nuclear fireball up into the air, melting the buses down to slag and skeletons. There is smoke and screaming and shattered glass. I drive away unharmed in my red car, which doesn’t even have a scratch on it. It’s all over the news. This Man’s Red Car Can Do Anything. Vroom vroooom.

When I see things like that, I feel bad. When I feel bad, I take my car out for a spin. I do donuts in parking lots. I drive in rotaries for hours on end. I go around and around until the only thing I can see is the scenery going by my driver’s side window. It’s the same scenery. It’s always the same scenery. But it’s nice and blurry and it changes quickly because I’m going really fast. Fuck am I going fast. I’m going really fucking fast. Wow. I love my fucking car. I’m driving really fast. That’s really cool.