This evening, I took delivery on a hybrid automobile.
The journey to get there, of course, was most interesting.
It was an 88-degree day, and, as a heart patient, I had to be really careful about being outdoors in direct sunlight for a long time. I also didn’t want to overheat like I did that day in 2020 when I had to go to the hospital from a field hockey game.
I drank a lot of water before getting onto the local busline, which would take me to the subway to get to my destination. The new subway line wound its way through the countryside into an area of the state which has seen its population balloon by some 2000 percent since 1950.
I was enjoying the ride, watching parallel roadway making snail trails in their lanes because of the volume. But about ten stops from where I would need to disembark, I started feeling some discomfort. All of that water I drank needed somewhere to go.
Fortunately, all of the stations on this line, including the one that I stopped at, were state-of-the-art construction, including well-marked public bathrooms.
Once I availed myself of the facility, I grabbed a taxi for my final destination, a small industrial park near a major airport. As the sound of jets flew through the air, I went through the paperwork needed to credential the new (to me) vehicle.
It’s a nice car without a lot of bells and whistles. It will get me where I need to go, and if I was to believe the readout from the screen telling me the gas mileage recorded from the dealership back home, I’d certainly be giddy.
58.5 MPG
Saving that much on fuel mileage is an absolute dream.
I haven’t named this car yet, but I’m sure to put in this site’s lexicon soon, along with The Vo, VO2 Max, The Fo, and Salsa Verde.
Yeah, this sports writer names cars.
And?
