The Roadster Warrior

I saw a Saturn Sky on the road the other day. You know I'm not a sportscar type, but I want this car. Never mind its miniscule trunk and capacity for only one passenger. It's a sweet car. Unfortunately, I'm too big for it.

I went to the Saturn dealership in my town and told the salesman I wanted to sit in it. After pushing the seat all the way back, I climbed down into it and shut the door. The remaining space wasn't enough for me to move my arms. Sure, my feet reached the pedals, but being able to steer would have been nice, too. I didn't ask the salesman to close the open roof of the convertible, lest an unfortunate event take place. Sigh. My first and last sportscar is never to be.

I am redeemed slightly, however, by noting that the driver of the car I saw the other day had completely gray hair. I'm not that old. I don't look that old. (Right?) Is it really a midlife crisis car? If so, I'm glad I didn't get one.