13 September 2007

Snowball, Meet Hell.

I am not what you'd consider a man's man. There's a whole lot of stereotyping attached to that statement, but it has a lot to do with cars. I absolutely suck at driving. You know that awkward thing where you almost bump a person on a narrow corridor and you give each other way? Then you end up dodging each other forever? The streets are like that for me, only we are housed in steel. (I'm too polite! Can you believe it?) I realize that the corollary to the stereotype is that women are not good drivers. I'm in no position to cast aspersions so I won't say that. If you want to fight among yourselves, do so on your own time.
Second, I suck at identifying cars. I'm just not very interested in owning one. Despite all the crap about image and whatnot influencing your opportunities, if I had all the money in the world I'd probably just buy a car that looks nice and has low fuel emissions. I don't know what that is. When describing where they're parked, my parents say something like "behind the Vios." I have to squint and look at the tiny logos and metal doodads because I have no idea what any single car looks like, even the ones my family owns(/ed).

Third, I don't find any excitement in all of the above. Back when we owned a Nissan Terrano, my classmate Andre kept telling me (translated): "Your car is so cool, let's drive it!" I'd politely nod. I think I was afraid of killing people. (After a few years in the emergency room, I still very much am!)

So it's suddenly snowed in hell as I have been enjoying the past few days playing Need for Speed: Carbon on the XBox 360 my brother ordered me to buy. My afternoons are spent cursing the television set, restarting race after race (I'm a perfectionist!), and figuring out how to make perfect drifts. I wouldn't say I'm particularly good at any of it, but I had no idea I had such aggression in me (lie: I played a lot of Mortal Kombat back in the day), ramming through dozens of police cars, poor regular joe cars, and most enjoyably of all, opponent cars. It's with relief that I note there are no pedestrians.

The rest of the time (at night, when everyone's asleep), I play Tenchu Z instead. There's a triumvirate of boyhood fantasies which varies, but I think the more constant ones included are pirate, cowboy, and ninja. There's something gross about the first two and really suave about the last. I'm not the type to ever want to kill someone, but somehow quietly killing Samurais and Ninjas without being detected is a lot of fun.

So now I'm practicing my driving, playing Need for Speed, pretending to be a ninja, and going to the, er, gym. Maybe I'm producing all the testosterone I need for the rest of my life when I am busy being serious. But please, when I start to love the ganster rap that is the soundtrack of Need for Speed, I give you permission to run over me.

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