Having a Fit in America

Having landed safely and been released through Homeland Security, it all begs the first burning question:

What is the first thing you buy in the Land of Capitalism after living in Europe for three years?

That’s right. A car.

Tainted by the foolish, small-car-ways of European car makers (they invented something called a “SmartCar” for heavens sake… what are they morons?), we ended up toiling over four important factors whilst shopping online for cars in the land of skinny roads and environmental conscience:

• Compact – In Europe, you basically get egged or challenged to a duel for driving SUVs. Shame works wonders on cutting back on emissions.
• Fuel economy – Let’s face it… Petrol is cheap here compared to the 96 pence per litre (anyone care to do exchange rate/metric math conversion?)$3.15 a gallon is NOTHING, you American wimps! Try $8.50 a gallon. I fart in your general direction!
• Versatile – A car isn’t just something that gets you from your recliner to the 7-Eleven for a Slurpee. It has to have FUNCTION. We needed something that was a cross between a Volvo, a Land Rover, a Vespa and helicopter. OK, we had to compromise a little on the off-road part, but the friggin’ fuel economy part won out.
• Cheap – OK we aren’t made of money. The exchange rate is good, but we have to basically recover from living in the third most expensive city in the world. And buy a house. And furniture. Gack!

So what did we buy? Simple. A Honda Fit.

“A what?!” my mother said, in her usual genteel way.

“I hope it isn’t one of those ugly, boxy cars,” my dad, the owner of a Jaguar, said.

“Is that one of those EURO cars?” our real estate agent asked.

Yup, to all of the above. It’s even a manual transmission, which we both agree on. Better gas mileage, more fun to drive.

Interesting note on the Fit: In the UK, it’s called a Jazz. Why? Because in Britain they still refer to epileptic seizures as “fits.”

I guess some things really were meant to be.