Desperately seeking fuel efficiency!

I mentioned last week that I'm starting a new job. What I may not have mentioned is that I'm commuting approximately 35 miles both to and from my job each day. Now, it's been some time since I've been a commuter. Oh, don't get me wrong. I love to drive. As a trooper I often put on 300+ miles per shift driving from one end of the district to the other. But there's one significant difference between those days and now: I wasn't paying for the petrol then.

At first I didn't think too much of it. I work longer shifts resulting in fewer days per week so I figured my GMC Jimmy and I would get along just fine. Besides being the coolest little SUV ever, there is another very endearing quality my Jimmy has. It's paid for. That's a very attractive characteristic.

I'd had Jimmy tuned up for the big commute. Clean oil. New air filter. Plugs and points checked out. So this week Jimmy and I head off at dawn like many other commuters. And I'm watching the fuel gauge with a critical eye. Then, a disbelieving eye. Then with a slightly bilious demeanor. The fuel was disappearing faster than Sour Cream and Onion Pringles do in my pantry. At four bucks a pop, the fuel costs will wipe out my book buying budget altogether.

So I happen to let the salesman who just sold us my son's car know that I might be in the market for something more fuel efficient for the commute to the city and keep the Jimmy for winter driving--or when Congress gets off their duffs and start looking for ways to boost the domestic production of oil. (Note to blog reader: I won't be holding my breath in the interim.)

The salesman calls yesterday.

"I think I have the car," he says. "It's being cleaned up as we speak."

"Cool," I reply, not getting too excited. I've been through this before.

"It's a Chevy Cavalier," he tells me.

Domestically built. Always nice to support the home team.

"Sounds good," I say noncommittally.

"It's a two door, bright red with a spoiler," he goes on.

"Go ahead," I prompt, thinking it sounds cute as a bug's ear, but reminding myself there's usually a catch.

"It's very fuel economical," he adds.

"And?" I query.

"It's got a stick shift," he mumbles.

"Uh, what was that?" I ask. "Come again."

"It's got a manual transmission," he repeats.

"Four on the floor," I mutter. The perfect car for my commute and it has four on the floor.

Now, don't get me wrong. I can drive a stick shift. In fact, I bought a vehicle with a manual transmission before I knew how to drive one and ended up attending Bullet Hole Bacus's School of Driving. That was back when my nickname was Parnelli--so named for a famous race car driver, Parnelli Jones. Yeah. I kinda had a bit of a need for speed back then.

I can drive a standard transmission. I just don't like doing it anymore. I enjoy the freedom and convenience of having one hand free to chat on the phone, sip a cup of coffee, or eat a slice of breakfast pizza on my morning commute. (All right. All three at the same time. Don't tell the authorities!) And the idea of driving in heavy traffic and constantly downshifting? Not my idea of a nice quiet drive before a busy work day--or at the end of a long shift.

But for curiosity sake I drive by the car lot on my way home from class last evening and there it is: a shiny red cute as can be car with cool wheels and that nifty spoiler.

I stare at it and picture myself behind the wheel. Okay, so I admit this is a little hard to do considering I have legs that go on for freakin' ever and this car looks like it was designed for Thumbelina. But in my mind's eye, I looked very cool in that car. Manual transmission or not.

So, I'm going out to look at the car later today to kick the tires--and kick the salesman for getting my hopes up only to burst my bubble with a stick shift and four on the floor. I may even take a test drive and try to convince myself driving a stick is like riding a bicycle. On second thought, in view of my recent experiences on two wheels, strike that comparison.

So how many of you drive cars with standard transmissions? Did you learn in driver's ed, teach yourself, or did some kind soul take pity on you and instruct you?

My children say I should go for it and get the Cavalier and I can teach them how to drive a stick, as well.

Hmm. Another strike against the little 'cherry'.

You know. It figures. Trigger Happy Halliday is on the hunt for the perfect guy. And me? I'm desperately seeking fuel economy.

It occurs to me that there is something very very wrong with this picture.

'Til next week, kick those tires and light those fires!

~Bullet Hole~