Not That There’s Anything Wrong With That

Jen took her car in for its 18 month check up yesterday. 

Aren’t these things suppose to be done once a year? Isn’t a year 12 months? No? Sorry, my mistake – carry on. 

Anyway, the car’s all fine and dandy. Passed with flying colors and shit. Jen had the check up and servicing done at the dealership – a Subaru dealership. I, naturally had to ask “so, you’re a lesbian now? When did this happen? How did I fail to notice? Does Oni know yet?”

Our infinitely patient Jen replied, ”no Donna, I have a Subaru Crosstrek (NOT to be confused with the Subaru Star Trek which, to date, does not exist), NOT a Forester. So, not gay.” 

Right. RIGHT! It’s the Forester. *ahem* USED to be the Outback. I get all those Subarus confused. I’m terribly out of date. Mi scusi and shit.

In any case. Jen had a cozy time at the Subaru dealership. She said all the other customers were like her – little to no makeup, no dye jobs, clad in comfortable, casual attire. She said it looked like a book club or political action meeting for middle-aged, laid back, New England women.

Now, back when I still drove, I had a SmartCar and had it serviced at the Mercedes-Benz dealership. That’s who made Smart cars. The Mercedes/Smart shared dealership didn’t have the comfy, homey, Vermont-ish vibe Jen found at Subaru. Nope. It was dudes and dudettes in slick business suits on work calls or reading the Wall Street Journal or some other uptight, boring-ass, money-industry rag. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. I kind of stood out in my tie dye T, metallic silver Vans, and yoga pants, reading my comic books but whatevs, eh?

Here’s what I think would be ideal for a dealership waiting room for when my car (if I was still a driver) goes in for its annual appointment. These things take…what? An hour or so? There should be seasonal snacks. It’s winter and I’m in Boston. I’m thinking clam chowder with a thick slab of warm dark rye bread. There should be hot chocolate (with real whipped cream), a fancy schmancy coffee, and/or a nice Lapsang Souchong. That would do me up just right. There should be deep, dark, lushly upholstered club chairs and chaises with packed bookshelves lining the walls. They should contain epic amounts of brill short story collections since none of us will be there long enough to read more than that. Any windows – I’m imagining floor to ceiling, with views of the Charles or Boston Harbor – will be shaded by deep emerald velvet drapes. Sounds ideal, right?

Question – is there a gay men’s equivalent to the stereotype of lesbians owning Subarus? Not really. Light googling shows that gay men are  supposedly also in the Forester camp but favor the boring ass Audi RS Q8 and Kia EV6 as well. Zzzzzzzzz. I’ve seen the Jeep Wrangler Rubicon  mentioned but, OOOF, how boxy and utterly inelegant.

Look, I totally understand the wish for a sturdy, practical, utilitarian vehicle. Honest I do but can we PLEASE have just a wee bit of style? I’d LOVE to have a Karmann Ghia BUT we need the trunk room for my rollator and wheelchair. Compromise was in order. What’d we get? An electric two door MINI Cooper. Adorable, no?

Is there no possible way to make an SUV, a jeep, a vehicle appropriate for the wilds of exurbia such that it has at least some small shred of duende? Can designers at least not make them look like untalented children’s drawings of boxes with wheels?

By the by, in the 1990s and 00s, Subaru actively marketed to LGBTQ people. Savvy. Very.