If you haven’t already noticed, I’m not a normal gal.
In fact, I’ve been frequently called a man trapped in a (seriously hot, seriously female) body. (Actually, the parenthetical part has never been spoken in my presence. I was shaped like a ruler until a year ago when I started gaining weight. Damn you, metabolism!)
This is why, when my then-fiance was talking about the purchase of an engagement present, I liked his first idea best: Engagement Muscle Car.
He had logical reasons for suggesting it (some of which are itemized below). Of course, to me, logic was secondary to the noise a great muscle car made when driven (very quickly) under a bridge or down the highway. Let’s be honest. Muscle cars are hot.
I’ve always loved muscle cars. They were the first thing that my husband and I had in common (him being the MacGuyver of anything mechanical, and me being physically aroused at anything sexy and fast). The car he owned when I met him was a 1969 Stingray (though I always preferred the ’73 model, I wasn’t complaining. Like, at all.) Throughout the entirety of our 6 1/2 year courtship (don’t ask), we talked about Stingrays, and Ferraris, and Lotuses…anything that went fast and looked hot was on the conversational menu. So it was really not surprising that our engagement conversation went like this:
Him: “So we’re getting married, right?”
Me: “Totally. Duh.“
Him: “Hmm…I think I’m supposed to get you a ring or something.”
Me: “Meh. Diamonds kill people.”
Him: “You know what would be really great?”
Me/Him: [simultaneously] “Muscle Car.”
I don’t know how it actually went. That was like, four years ago. I’ve slept since then.
But anyway, over the next four years, I’ve begun to internally itemize all the reasons why my engagement muscle car beats a diamond ring. Here are a mere few:
Diamonds: depreciate in price immediately after purchase = -1
Muscle Car: appreciate in price over time (provided you didn’t buy it fully stocked and upgraded, which we did not) = +1
Diamonds: are cool to other women who care about diamonds* = 0
Muscle Car: are cool to anyone who loves muscle cars (regardless of gender) = +1
* Note: I’m not knocking it, ladies and gents who love diamonds. it just ain’t me. But just so nobody gets their feelings hurt, I won’t give it a -1. (This time.)
Diamonds: can be stolen by muggers in dark alleyways = -1
Muscle Car: significantly harder to steal (and in my case, cannot be stolen by anyone, regardless of location, unless they managed to take my car key which has a chip in it) = +1
Diamonds: have annoying commercials = -1
Muscle Car: has awesome commercials = +1
Diamonds: are inanimate objects, so do not go anywhere except on your finger = -1
Muscle Car: will take you wherever you want to go, in style. Sexy, sexy style = +1
Diamonds: are responsible for the death and maiming of countless innocent lives, and make a lot of bad people a lot of money, and despite if the company promises it’s not a blood diamond, you will never really know, will you?! = -5
Muscle Cars: could potentially be responsible for death and maiming, but probably only people who deserved it = +1
Muscle Car: 6
I think I win my own argument.
And if that wasn’t enough, here is my engagement muscle car in question (’70 1/2 Chevy Camaro):
I rest my case.