Personality Type: The Jetta Driver

Posted by The Bastardly. Edited for brevity but can be found in it's entirety here.

"Aaah, The Jetta. I think the cars are synonymous with the words, “I want one of those” in the female and homosexual communities. Don’t get me wrong now, I love & respect both communities, but let’s not kid ourselves, the Jetta is not a car for the normal guy. That is, if the normal guy is not a chump.

The male Jetta driver: The Jetta is a classic car for your typical chump on the prowl for women (that is, women who are in high school or early years of college). Why? Very simple. Because you have something they want. It’s the same with other wonders of the world…money, large house, cute puppy, large penis, etc etc. You have something. They want a piece! The closest thing to owning a Jetta is being close to someone who has one. The chump gets what he wants. The woman gets her desires fulfilled. Very simple concept, indeed.

What characteristics define this chump? The Classic Jetta Chump is a (most often white) male in their late - early 20s. If he’s in college, 4 out of 5 times, he’s in a frat. He drinks Starbucks coffee. He Eats @ the Cheesecake Factory. He wears Abercrombie & Fitch. Lastly, he most probably lifts with a wife-beater on, so he can A) look @ himself in the mirror as he does curls & B) so he can attract his women. In other words, he has no mercy.

The girl Jetta Driver: Aaah, they are truly a wonder. No Asian man can ever get his skinny hands on their silky bodies because these girls have been sheltered by their fathers (who most probably have a military background & fought wars against the colored people–i.e. Vietnam, Gulf War, etc). There’s a clause to the last statement: The Asian man can get into Girl Jetta Drivers’ pants ONLY if they fork over a Jetta in exchange for pleasure, but that would classify as a total Chump move, so it just wouldn’t be cool.

The Jetta Girl is the classic Daddy’s Little Girl. If she owns a Jetta released within the last 3 years, she is definitely Daddy’s Girl, but if it’s a old, ghetto Rabbit, then she’s probably your wannabe surfer. 7 out of 10 times (accounting for the wannabe surfers), materialism defines them. It is literally at the center of their world. Don’t be surprised to see a chick driving a Jetta, who has a Hurley bumper sticker & carries a LV handbag. Also, 4 out of 5 times they are members of elite sororities, so the Chumps on the prowl find their prey extremely easily. Also, to further feed the Chump fire, these girls believe coffee was invented by Starbucks."

~*~

Seriously funny! The description of the male Jetta driver is accurate of the one guy I knew in college who drove said vehicle. He was a white male, in a frat and a womanizer. I believe he might have been too good for A & F, though...only Ralph Lauren/Polo and Izod would do.

As for the description of me? Well, it is somewhat accurate.

I am a daddy's girl but not in an annoying way. Ha - at least I don't think so. I am fairly cognizant about not being a spoiled brat. I just happen to be my dad's only daughter...and an only child.

Speaking of my dad...he does have a military background and fought in Vietnam.

I wouldn't say that materialism defines me...that's a tad harsh...I do, however, enjoy the finer things in life. And it's not LV, thank you very much...it's Chanel and Coach...well, and Dolce and Gabbana (because their initials are the letters of my sorority)....

(long pause)

This is sounding bad for me, isn't it??

Yeah.

Happy Friday!

Seriously, today is gorgeous! It is absolutely amazing here in Nashville...and to have come after such a nasty day yesterday.

I really don't have much to say except that.

Oh, I do need some advice if anyone wants to offer some up -

Wednesday night I left my sunroof open in my Jetta and that was fortuitously the night that it stormed cats and dogs. I went out to my car early Thursday morning, trying to leave early and beat the throngs of commuters since it was raining. I opened my car door and was greeted by a wave of water rushing out of my car...

Just kidding...but seriously, it was sopping wet in there...

Does anyone know what I should do? Right now, all my windows are open just airing it out. I like to workout...but I don't want my car to smell like a dirty, wet athletic sock.

Advice? Sympathy? All is accepted here.

Three Thanks

Again, late! So sorry! I know you were waiting with baited breath to see what I was thankful for yesterday...but I was otherwise engaged and away from a computer. Nashville's music industry is going through CRS week right now...and that's exciting for everyone involved (even those, like me, involved vicariously).

So, without further adieu...my three thanks:

1. Good Live Music - Here in Nashville we are blessed with a great deal of talent...but with that comes individuals who are convinced they have a great deal of talent. Here's to good live music!

2. Not Talking - Try to find the people that you are so comfortable with that you don't feel the need or the awkwardness to talk. People you can just be with. These people are a rare find, at least to me. Sometimes, just sometimes...the silence will speak volumes.

3. Lenny's - I love that place! And I don't smell like Subway when I leave. Always a plus.


On a side note - My Jetta is being recalled. Remind me again why I am not ditching this burden of a vehicle.

Again, disHeartened by my Jetta

The "Check Engine" light is on again in my horrid automobile. This POS has been in the shop more than I have been able to drive it.

Yeah...

Just so you know...This whole not having a car thing...

It's really wearing on my every-last-loving nerve!

But! Grey's is tonight! Thank God for little miracles.

I'm going to a haunted house on Saturday and am already scared. I told someone that I might poop my pants...

She told me to stop by K-Mart to get some Depends before I left.

That really has nothing to do with anything, but at the moment, I am waiting for my dad to pick me up at work.

Yeah...

Just sittin' here...

Counting the days that pass me by... (it's a Michelle Branch song...)

One that I tortured myself with for a long time. If you go through a break-up, this is the song for you. It's strong and "I'll pick myself back up" oriented...and yet sad and depressive. Just the elements that every good break-up song should consist of.

Sunday Woes

Last night, I picked up my friend Abi from the airport. She had visited her family in North Carolina and was coming in from a relaxing weekend. Abi called me when her flight landed and I headed off to the airport to play the good friend role.

The airport was really crowded last night for some bizarre reason; then again, maybe it always is and I just never fly so I wouldn’t know. So I circled once. I got back around and Abi still wasn’t there. I circled again. Still not there…so I decided to see if anyone would notice if I lingered in the unloading zone. Well, the Parking Nazi did…and he was about 80 years old…but he was scary…don’t be fooled by outward appearances or age. With a stiff finger and several tense moves he directed me out of my spot and there I was, circling again.

Abi called to let me know they had lost her luggage. They weren’t exactly sure where it was, but it was indeed lost. So, while she talked with the airline about next steps I waited in my car in the waiting area…without the Nazi.

I was given word about 10 minutes later that Abi was on her way out. I went to meet her. She was, needless to say, a tad vexed. I tired to comfort her in the best way I knew how…”Um, it could be worse…” which is never helpful.

We started on our way to drop her off at her car, which was parked at her office. While en route I kept hearing this buzzing noise. I thought perhaps there was some sort of large beetle or *scary* some sort of biting/stinging inset. But it sounded like it was coming out of my dash board. From the inside. I turned on the blinker and it stopped.

Seconds later, the ABS light came on and then the Airbag light came on, followed by the Check Engine light. Awesome. Well, all I had to do was make it home, right. Right. So, we’re trucking on down I 4-40. We get on 1-65 N and the radio goes off. Silence. Then the interior console lights go off. Now I can’t see how fast I’m going. Though it sure is a blessing not seeing all those glaring lights shining back at me telling me to check things that I don’t know what are. As long as I’ve got headlights, right. Right.

Then they go off. Awesome. I’m traveling down the interstate not knowing how fast I’m going and without headlights…and also with an expired tag.

I called my parents because they always know what to do. Always. Of course, as usual, they did. We made our plan and Abi and I continued on to her office. We were pulling up to the gate at her building and I had to put my window down to enter in the key code. Yeah…the whole electrical thing wasn’t working so well…but the window finally did go down. Just didn’t so go back up so well. The distance from the gate to Abi’s car is about 75 feet. In this time, Abi asks me…”Do you think you’ll make it back to my place, or do you think you should just leave your car here?”

“Oh, I think I’ll make it. Just make sure to follow behind me.”

Then my car starts sputtering. And it dies. Right there. Rolling into a parking space.

Poor little Jetta. She made it as long as she could.

So, here I am again. Carless and at the mercy of others.

Only now, I’m out of a warranty. Perhaps because it was an existing condition they will help me out again. And by help out, I mean pretend to fix things while scratching their asses.

Oh, I’m sorry.

And yet, not really.

My Baby's Back!

She's back and she's hopefully better than ever! I had my doubts, you know. I was looking at other cars/SUV's, thinking that I would sell her when I got her back...

But when we reunited...it was glorious! I hugged her little steering wheel and apoligized to her for my lack of confidence. When I bought her, I promised forever...Until death do us part...and I was a pig to think that we might not go though hard times. Well, hopefully those times are behind us now. Our relationship can now proceed and flourish, the way it used to be.

I can now rejoin my Lincoln Park Trixie Society... :)

Oh yeah...

And I don't so much heart my Jetta anymore. Poor thing has been in the shop for months...luckily, she was still in warranty (which includes rental car coverage).

What am I driving right now? Oh, a Mitsubishi Galant. Be jealous. Very, Very jealous.

Since the beginnings of my ordeal with Volkswagen though, I have driven a Hyundai Sonata, a Dodge Stratus, and my current...Mitsubishi Galant.

Did you know that Enterprise can sell the car that you are driving? Because they can. That's right. If you are in a rental that has close to 40,000 miles...wait for that phone call...Enterprise will be calling you up to trade cars with you. It's happened to me twice so far. Luckily, the new car only has 14,000 miles. Who knows how many I will be able to put on the Galant by the time my car is complete.

Apparently, Baby Jetta needs a new alternator and the alternator is on a "National Backorder." (As stated by Hallmark Volkswagen)

When I call for the status, they tell me "Well, Ms. Jetta, the computer says that it's 'in process.'" Awesome, it's been 'in process' for 2 months now.

I've also gotten, "Oh, you're the white Jetta!" Comforting. Real comforting.

Now, how 'bout giving me some information on Lemon Laws in Tennessee...

Lincoln Park Trixie Society

I was told by a fellow blogger, DP, that (if in Chicago) I should join this society because I would fit in oh so perfectly.

Here, ladies and gents...is the Lincoln Park Trixie Society.

Description: Chicago's premier social organization of young, on-the-move women living in wonderful Lincoln Park. You don't have to be from Chicago to get the joke; every town has its Trixies. They're the women with Kate Spade bags for every day of the week; the ex-sorority girls still lusting after big, dumb jocks; the women who go to law school to find husbands.

The Lincoln Park Trixie Society provides "the backbone and courage necessary for many young Trixies to climb the social ladder, and continues to provide the structure necessary to maintain Lincoln Park as one of the most wonderful neighborhoods in all of Chicago." Along with information about the society's history, membership and services, a site devoted to said society features a host of sections, with names running from the subtle (the "Ask Ashley" advice column) to the ridiculous ("Ride in my Jetta").

I really must go now - I'm driving in my Jetta to meet some sorority sisters at the Starbucks around the corner.