Thursday, March 11, 2010

Golf Cart From Hell

It does look a little like a green Christine, doesn't it? Greenstine. Undaunted by the story of the runaway Prius in San Diego, I rented one. I was sure I could impose my will on the Beast. If Birkenstock wearing, tree huggers can drive it, I can too.

The question I failed to ask is: "Why?". It is a golf cart. Noisy, rough, harsh, molasses-like accelleration. Wierd controls, including a 3 step process to make it go, as if to say: "Really, is this trip approved by Greenpeace?". I had to read the manual to make it go.

The dashboard is dominated by a screen bigger than some TVs I own, that gives absolutely NO useful information. A diagram of the wheels spinning. Like, "Oh, really, the wheels turn?!". It may be that those Prius out of control are caused by old idiot hippies staring at the wheel diagram, enjoying flashbacks trying to make them spin faster. "Spinnin wheel, got to go round...".

Oh yes, I am getting great mileage. Twice as much as the Mercedes, with none of the guilt ridden fun. So I am paying about $900 a year to stay out of driving hell, a bargain. This car sucks.

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