THE COOPER CAPER
Or, should I say The MINI-Cooper Caper?
I’ve always wanted to buzz jauntily around town in a bright red Mini-Cooper. It would have racing stripes, of course. And, a “rag top” so I’d always have the sun on my face and the wind in my hair. Oh, the happy, carefree times we’d have together. My Mini and me.
Mini’s aren’t very easy to find around here though. But just by chance, The Mister came upon a dealer in Savannah with some really cute ones on their lot so off we went to check them out.
Prior to this little “looky-loo” excursion, I’d already had some concerns about the height of the car. Just how high and/or low is it exactly? How easy is it to get into? And, even more importantly, get out of? Answers were not forthcoming. There was only one way to find out. Go try one on for size.
On our way to the dealer, I spied a Mini in a parking lot just down the road. Stop the car, I said to the Mister who didn’t. A few miles later, I repeated myself and added that a little up-close inspection might save us considerable driving time. That caught his attention and we turned around.
We pulled up right next to the Mini. The Mister went into a nearby store, hoping its owner might be there and sure enough, there she was. He gave her his wallet in exchange for the keys to the Mini, we unlocked the door and in I got! Voila! Just like that!
It quickly became evident that the Mini was way too low to the ground for my comfort. “Well, then,” said the Mister, “just pop out and we’ll go home.”
“Hold your horses,” I said “Have you looked closely at my situation? My legs are firmly planted outside the car but the rest of me is not. My eyes are now level with my knees, and my ass is level with my ankles. The situation is reminiscent of the dreaded ”breech” birth position but with nary a forcep in sight. So, how, as you so glibly put it, am I supposed to just ‘pop out’?
With considerable encouragement and much pushing and pulling from The Mister’s strong arms, I finally “popped out.”
I am now ever-so-much more appreciative of my trusty Subaru which lets me gracefully slide in and out without so much as a “fare-thee-well.” And, if that word doesn’t date me and clarify my need for a nice, big, high, safe car, well then, I just don’t know what does.