Alyssa Royse fell in love with her husband because of his beat up 30 year-old Subaru, not despite it.
I’m not gonna lie. When I first saw the Equus Bass, which is being called the sexiest car to come out of Detroit, EVER, I tingled. This car is my idea of a pure, mechanized, hot rod of love. Just waiting for me to insert myself for the ride of my life.
Sex on wheels. For sure.
Just looking at it I could feel the rumble between my thighs. Like a Harley, except that in this ride I could throw back my head, arch my back, go limp and collapse on the seat, safely.
I want a ride.
I fully admit that I was browsing through the gallery of photos in a positively prurient manner. I could imagine my forearm pressing fully into the leather divider in the back seat, my finger tracing the perfect curve of the instrument panel displays, my feet on the dashboard….
Then I clicked over to the specs. And the price.
Which is when I realized that as much as I wanted to take a ride in the car, I would never, ever want to ride a guy who would own that car.
I know that sounds harsh. I do. But I have long been really turned off by guys who drive expensive cars. It’s probably not all that fair. I just can’t imagine that I would have much in the way of aligned values with a guy who would spend $250,000 on a car. Even if that was chump change, there are so many better things to do with $250,000.
Full disclosure, I spent 2 years dating a guy for whom this was chump change. Though my predisposition against guys who drive flashy cars long predated him, I made an exception. By the time that relationship ended, I was more sure than ever that I don’t belong in the world of really expensive cars.
Luxury cars like the Equus Bass are status symbols. Here in the US anyway, there is nowhere where you can legally drive them more than about 80 miles an hour without risking either a big ticket or the lives of other people on the road with you. So I just don’t buy the whole, “I got it for the performance” thing. Right, and I bet you read Playboy for the articles too.
I have nothing against Playboy, but I so assume that anyone who says they get it for the articles is a liar. Like guys who buy expensive cars for the performance. If you ask me, that’s only part of the story.
When I met the man who is now my husband, our dating went as dating often does – at least when you meet somewhere like OK Cupid. We agreed to meet for coffee. Then lunch. Then coffee again. I think it was on the second coffee date that I saw his car.
I was determined not to fall for anyone. Really. I was amicably exiting a sort of “palate cleanser” relationship, and wasn’t fully ready for something serious. But I was already feeling pangs. This guy was different.
Then I saw his car. And damn if that didn’t send me over the cliff.
He drives a 30 year-old Subaru Loyale. At the time, it had a cartoon figure of an old school weightlifter glued to the front as a hood ornament. (Now it has a space man. The hood ornament is ever-changing, because people steal them. There are a lot of small footprints left in glue on hood of his car.)
His car has other amazing features, like crank windows, and a child’s toy that fits perfectly between the driver’s seat and the emergency brake creating a safe place to hold a cup of coffee, because this car was made before people put cup holders in cars.
My heart sang, though I didn’t recognize it at the time. Here was a man who wasn’t wasteful, didn’t feel the need to prove anything anyone, understood the value of things that work well, and had a sense of humor. I mean, what’s not to love?
Now that we’re married, I recognize why I loved that car, and how it is, indeed, a true reflection of who he is.
I get the impulse to bling ourselves out to attract mates. Men do it. Women do it. Most people do it.
But it is a habit that I gave up a long time ago. Not because I’ve given up on “me,” as they so often say women in their 40’s do. Quite the opposite, actually. I am in better shape than I ever have been, happier, more secure, and less likely to play, or get played by, the mating games. When he and I met for coffee the first time, I warned him that I would likely be coming straight from the gym and won’t have showered. It was a conscious decision. I wanted a guy who would look at me like that, and think, “I want THAT.” Because that’s how I usually am.
I remember what it was like to get all dressed up and made up and go out, and then hope like hell someone wasn’t disappointed when they saw me in the morning, or ran into me at the gym or….. I’m done with that.
I am awesome as I am. And I deserve a guy who thinks that.
And I won’t settle for a guy who doesn’t feel that about himself, feel that he deserves to be wanted like that, and has the courage to stand up for it.
I know, I really do, that men are told all the time that they need to have the car, the clothes, the body wash, the moves the….. Whatever it takes to sell you something.
But here’s my question, do you want the partner that expects that from you? Or do you want the one who wants you for YOU, not your stuff?
Eventually, his car is going to die. I’m already sort of dreading it. I suspect he’ll get a Nissan Leaf, that’s what he keeps talking about. And it’s totally him. Rational, safe, not flashy, environmentally awesome. I can see him in a Nissan Leaf. I like what that car says about someone who drives it.
It’s not sexy in the traditional sense. But it inspires all manner of sexy feelings in me. It reminds me that he will probably always see the value in what we have, that works so well, even when there are flashier new models all around us.
And nothing gets me to open up quite like knowing that someone truly values me. That’s a man I can really go for a ride with.