"Prius, huh?" I say to my friend Sarah, a member at the gym. We're on the elevator up from the parking structure.
"I could never drive one of those. They're so dorky-looking."
A gay guy with perfect stubble and a yoga mat chimes in.
"I drive a Prius."
"You know, it's not about looking cool."
"Well yeah, obviously."
He gets this look on his face like I'm an asshole, which I am. But if Priuses weren't about looking cool then why would he be offended?
Sarah attempts to inject some humor into the conversation with a jokey, pro-Prius comment. I say something about my '92 Subaru with 230,000 miles and an environmental bumper sticker on the back (thanks, Mom). The elevator doors open and we walk out.
Gay Yoga Guy keeps pace.
"Maybe you should think a little more about the environment."
What's funny to me is that the Prius is more about image than it is about the environment. It's the vegetarian's BMW. An avatar of awareness. And I'll tell you this: if I'm going to drop thirty Gs on a new car, it IS about looking cool. The environment can suck my dick. I'm not going to roll around in some glorified hatchback because it makes the air a tad bit cleaner. What's the point anyway? Some bum's just going to breathe it up before I can.
"Look, I'm not hating on you, man. It's just not for me."
"Don't knock it until you try it."
He huffs off. Sarah and I exchange looks. I know what she's thinking.
I have Prius envy.