Is a Car really freedom?

I was sitting on the 522 this morning - after a lung-busting climb up from the Burke-Gilman trail to Lake City way - when I overheard a few conversations a woman had on her cellphone. I wasn't privy to who she was talking with, or even her face, for I never turned back to look at her. And no, I wasn't eavesdropping: the whole bus was privy to her conversation it looked like. It was like a puzzle. The words she spoke were the pieces, and my mind subconsciously attempted to complete the puzzle using the different "pieces" that floated in the air. It was a tad loud, to say the least.

The first conversation was certainly with a woman, I thought. It started off being about our heroine not wearing matching slacks. It was certainly something a woman would be most concerned about, and I wondered why a woman would set out to work while donning less than "ideal" colours? Well, as it turns out, our heroine had gotten her shirt covered in oil! So, she had set out with matching colours. What had changed between the time she set out and the time she had gotten on the bus ? Like a soap-opera fan, I was hooked! I didn't have my usual crossword in hand, or a book, and so I was going to grab whatever little entertainment I could find.

"My car broke down this morning and I had to walk 7 miles to catch a bus!" she anguished to her friend, and that's when I realized what had happened. The woman had encountered some car trouble this morning, and that explained why she was on the bus. Her friend must have commisserated with her, for reasonably long periods of silence followed. "I just paid 3300 dollars for it, and it was supposed to make my life easier", our heroine mused. More silence followed.

I caught little bits here and there about still having a bus pass and stuff like that, so I conjectured that our heroine had been a daily rider of the bus, until she had falled victim to the "Cars are freedom" story, and had gone out and bought a car for a price she could afford, and had gotten the short end of the stick on. Our heroine bid adieu to her buddy, and made another call.

"My car broke down this morning", she said softly into the phone, her voice tinged with disappointment. I could not guess who she was calling, but I would find out soon enough. "I just bought the car a few days ago, and it has broken down already. I paid 3300$ for it, and have only driven it twice!", she ranted into the phone, her voice now clearly not soft, but rather laced with anger and vitriol. I guessed that this was the place (or person) she bought the car from. Then came the final blow.

"I have driven only 11 miles on it. I have left it where it broke down and you can go check the odometer", she said. I felt really sorry for her. This was a woman who had just given up riding the bus and had bought a car to make her life "easier", and now she neither had the comfort nor the money she paid to get that "freedom". 11 miles. I don't know how she will fare, but it seems like $3300 is a lot of money to only go 11 miles. Do cars really make our life "easier", I wonder?! A downpayment, Insurance, car payments, gas expenses, regular maintenance and the agony of sitting in bumper to bumper traffic sure don't sound like they make my life "easier", not to mention the threat of breaking down or driving a "Weapon of Mass Destruction".

Her last call was to her HR department to let them know that she was going to be late to work, because her car had broken down. My bus had arrived at my destination, and I got off, completely satisfied that I do not own a car.