Dear Eco-Friendly Driver,
I see you, zipping around town in your compact, efficient vehicle, a true champion of sustainability and environmental love. You can’t help but notice me as I pull into the coffee shop lot, parking my hulking SUV. I can sense your gaze as you sip your fair-trade latte, wondering why I’d choose such a gas-guzzling beast. In an era where climate change looms large and resources are dwindling, why would I opt for a car that resembles a tank?
Do you think it’s a matter of prestige? Maybe I crave the illusion of authority that my glossy black SUV with tinted windows offers, hoping to be mistaken for a government agent or a celebrity. Perhaps I relish the elevated view, sitting high above the road, surveying my little kingdom. Or maybe I’ve simply bought into the “bigger is better” mentality that seems to permeate American culture.
You probably assume I’m indifferent to environmental issues. After all, how could someone driving this behemoth care about the planet? You envision my vehicle cluttered with fast-food wrappers and other waste, destined for the landfill.
But here’s the truth: I’m not a fan of this car either. I drive it because life threw me a curveball, and now I have six kids. This oversized SUV is the only vehicle that can accommodate my family and a few bags of groceries. I’m trapped.
This rolling monstrosity is more of a burden than a convenience. It struggles to fit into parking spaces, and I’ve already scratched three doors before my third cup of coffee today. The rearview camera and incessantly beeping backup alerts make me feel like I’m attempting to land a small aircraft. I often turn off those features, which probably isn’t the best idea. Let’s just say my husband has a few concerns about my driving.
The interior is so spacious that we once misplaced our dog. He had wedged himself behind the third row and fallen asleep, only to be discovered snoring after we returned home, thinking we’d left him at the park. We often conduct experiments on the food that falls beneath the seats—carrots turn mushy, while chicken nuggets remain surprisingly intact weeks later.
My kids treat the back seat like an Olympic gymnastics event, vaulting over each other. It’s not unusual for Jack to accidentally kick Lottie in the face, which leads to a flurry of napkins thrown back to her from the front—at least we keep a stash of those handy.
The noise level in this vehicle is astounding. Yelling is often the only way for someone in the very back to communicate an urgent need to use the restroom—despite having just stopped ten minutes ago.
Marketing for this beast suggests that collapsing the seats is a breeze, allowing you to load anything from furniture to groceries effortlessly. The reality? It’s a workout akin to childbirth, and it does little for marital bliss. Trust me.
Let’s not even start on the cost of operating this vehicle. If I spent half the money we shell out on gas and maintenance on my appearance, I could practically be a doppelgänger to a Hollywood star.
This SUV often feels like a rolling guilt trip, guzzling gas at an alarming rate while contributing significantly to my carbon footprint. I genuinely care about the environment; I practice water conservation, recycle, and even keep bees. But here I am, stuck in this gas-guzzling vehicle.
So, spare me your judgment, dear friend. I’d gladly trade places with you. One day, when I’m not carting around half a dozen little ones, I will.
Until then, you’ll find me in the parking lot, rummaging through the depths of my SUV for my reusable coffee cup.
Wishing you efficient travels,
A (Very) Reluctant SUV Driver