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So I was looking at new cars the other day because mine is like 200 years old and apparently hard to get parts for anymore. I wasn’t ready for the monthly payments, but driving around without folks recognizing me for a minute seemed kinda nice.
Like having a new box of crayons, it was hard to pick out the one I wanted to test drive first. There were so many choices and colors.
I like to test drive a new vehicle when I have errands to run, as it allows me to get several things done at one time – you know, two birds with one stone.
After an hour on the lot and a salesman trying to convince me that I’d look good in a Corvette (as his passenger), I left and went elsewhere.
At another lot, I was talked into test driving a battery-operated car. Good Lord, after driving around for 10 minutes, the thing started to slow down on its own. At 55 mph in rush-hour traffic, I started fearing for my life. I pulled over to give it a rest, but then it wouldn’t start up again – the battery was dead.
As a member of a car club, I called for a battery charge, but they informed me I was out of the area for an electric vehicle charge. Perhaps their tow trucks are electric, and they were just dead as well. What if I had been a juror on a murder case? They would still be waiting for me to show up in court to cast my vote.
I have a friend who owns an EV and, like a pair of Crocs shoes, they’re not the most attractive things.
Anyway, they say EVs are economical and environmentally friendly, but so is a pair of roller skates.
I also felt leery about sitting on top of batteries while driving around. I had a cell phone battery explode once, but I lived to tell about it. Perhaps the new car paperwork hides a disclaimer about that, ya know, all liabilities lay in the small print.
What if I was in a dangerous area when the batteries died? I couldn’t wait hours for the car to charge if there was a massive mud slide coming my way.
When my husband and I travel, it’s all I can do to manage bathroom stops and meals. How was I going to add battery charges at available stations, to that itinerary?
These vehicles are also very expensive. For the price of an electric vehicle, I could probably purchase a good used truck, lots of gas, new upholstery, renew an auto club membership, buy a lifetime supply of 12-volt batteries for the truck and purchase 20 years worth of Cheetos cheese puffs. I’d still have enough money left over to bury me in the back yard, I’m guessing.
The EVs remind me of the toy vehicles that you pull back on and let go of. They roll until they just run out of motion. What if I leave an interior light on by mistake – there goes hours in recharge time. I have enough trouble keeping flashlights charged.
My Uncle Vinny says a potato can charge things and suggested I stockpile them in the trunk if I buy an EV – whatta dope.
I realized perhaps I’m just better off using my gas-powered vehicle until it dies. Then I’ve got a great pair of skates in my closet.
Anngee Quinones-Belian of Murphy is a staff correspondent for the Cherokee Scout. Her humor column runs every other week. Email her at anngeeq@gmail.com.