Dear 2019 Honda CRV,
Look, I’m sorry, okay?
But it wasn’t my fault. It was the garage. It wasn’t as wide as I remembered. And it you should have warned me that I wasn’t going to clear the wall.
The sound you made when your passenger side mirror collided with the garage wall was a little dramatic, don’t you think? And you got glass all over the floor. It took hours to clean up.
$600 later and I’m on the verge of poverty and you have a brand new passenger side mirror. And what do I have beside another hole in my wallet? You, I guess, 2019 Honda CRV. Just you.
I’ve always treated you well. Even when I haven’t.
***
You’re so quick to bring up the time I backed into that tree and your rearview windshield exploded. How was I to know the tree was so close? And yes, I didn’t notice that the windshield was gone until I was halfway home. Still, You didn’t bother to alert me with any kind of sound. You don’t communicate, 2019 Honda CRV, and that is part of your problem.
Insurance took care of your rearview windshield. Good as new. I’m always spending on you.
And yes, I could change your oil more regularly, but I’m a busy man. People to be, places to do, things to go. I’m always moving, CRV, unlike you.
And there we get to the crux of the matter, don’t we? Look, I’m sorry I haven’t driven you much this fall. I’ve been walking to work. Walking to appointments. To coffee shops. Walk, walk, walking. It’s good for my anxiety. Better than driving you around this college town, evading inebriated college students and driving carefully around watchful police. I’m sure I’ll start driving you again soon. Maybe.
That is, I’ll drive you if you don’t keep losing passenger side mirrors.
***
It has been five years, 2019 Honda CRV, since I bought you at a Honda dealer in State College, Pennsylvania. Remember how my pants split when I bent over to empty out the contents of my previous Honda CRV? 2011 Honda CRV. I had to finish buying you without letting the salesman see my boxers. Talk about embarrassing.
We would drive up and down the rural highways of Central Pennsylvania together, on the cusp of Covidpocalypse. Son Volt blaring from your speakers. Unlike your predecessor, 2011 Honda CRV, you didn’t have a CD player. But Spotify took care of us, didn’t it?
And now here we are. I’m driving you less because there is no need to race off down rural highways anymore. I’m a city boy again. Well, relatively speaking. Iowa City is city enough for me these days. Rather than enjoying some rest, you act out by losing a passenger side mirror. For shame, 2019 Honda CRV, for shame.
I can’t say your time isn’t running short. I have no expertise when it comes to cars. It is better for me to trade them in while they still have value and use that money towards a new car. 2025 Honda CRV? Maybe.
Anyway, let this note be documentation of the ways you continue to cost me money. And the way I continue to support you. I’m an enabler for your transgressions, 2019 Honda CRV, and you can’t pretend I’m not.
Samuel Jaye Tanner 