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I came dangerously close to buying one of these new a few years back. I could have squeaked out the payments while I had the job and commute I did at the time, but a few short months later I found myself in substantially reduced circumstances—and was relieved not to have that monkey on my back. I had other monkeys to cope with as it was. I remember at the time thinking, maybe when someone has put a hundred thousand miles on it, I'll be able to afford it.

When I brought it home, Corinna looked at it and asked, 'That's the car you've always wanted?' She didn't mean it in a bad way, she's just got so little use for cars in general (or else I couldn't have gotten away with a K-Fed move like driving her car for eight months), that the phrase 'dream car' makes about as much sense to her as 'ideal tumor.' In fact, we realized the other day that the reason law enforcement never recovered my Honda was that my car was not, as previously believed, stolen. It got a load of Corinna's attitude about cars, me turning into an all-season bike commuter, and decided to run away from home.