Since moving to New York, Paul and I have been introduced to the wonderful world of car rentals.
Before we relocated, I had rented a car exactly once, a few years ago on a vacation in Washington state. Now we rent a car two or three times a year when we fly into Columbus or Detroit to visit our families.
Labor Day weekend was no exception. We always reserve the cheapest car but usually get upgraded because we land at the airport so late and the compacts are already gone.
Not this time.
We were stuck with an ugly two-door taxi-cab-yellow Chevy Cobalt. We literally thought we would get hailed on our way home from the the bars Saturday and Sunday nights. By Sunday afternoon, Paul had already christened the car "Old Yeller."
We still have our Saturn in Brooklyn, but cruising in Ohio is a completely different experience than driving in New York.
We hadn't even been in the car for half an hour when Paul declared he would've blared the horn at the car in front of us if we were in New York. (You have to do something really bad to get honked at in Ohio. Like maybe actually hit someone.) Later in the weekend Paul marveled that he could actually drive the speed limit on the interstate without fear of rear-ending someone.
Alas, I didn't drive once during this trip to Ohio. But I did listen to my favorite radio station within the confines of a car-- something I haven't been able to do in way too long.