My Friend Who Drives the Car Dumpster

Dear Friend Driving,

Oh, don’t worry about the trash my feet are in. I’m just a humble passenger, one without the expectations of clear floors or civil surroundings. The seat belt could be a little less sticky, but then again, I admit its glutinous nature would stabilize me during a potential collision, which is a real possibility considering the windshield’s current (lack of) visibility.

Oh, and please, I mean it -- you need not ever scramble to tidy up as I enter. Don’t rush to throw shoes and Wendy’s drive thru trash into the back seat. Seriously, those textbooks are fine where they are. I wouldn’t want you to clutter a section that has been so carefully stacked with the numerous necessities of life. It is, after all, apparent that for the past seven months you have been living out of your Accord, probably sleeping in the once-spacious back seat. If not, you are clearly preparing to live out of this sedan if your apartment blows up. And that isn’t something anyone is wishing for, but it is worth acknowledging that if it were to happen, we couldn’t help but celebrate the fact that a comparatively large percentage of your belongings would be safe because they are now stored in here.

I also would commend your ability to mask most of the auto’s scents through a robust use of the air conditioner or heater. The uncomfortable temperature certainly distracts me from the uncomfortable odors.

It’s OK you are messy. I am messy, too. I don’t drive my mess around, sure, but I have at times fallen victim to clutter as well. It’s actually quite refreshing to travel with a friend who says, ‘take me as I am,’ because at its heart it would seem contrived for you to, you know, live within the hygienic standards of most adults. That’s just not who you are. Don’t ever think you have to change for anyone. And don’t ever think about changing -- or cleaning -- your car.

Sincerely,

Your Passenger Drowning In Debris