Being part of the "In Crowd"

All throughout school, I always wanted to be part of the In Crowd. But for some reason, I never was.

The In Crowd is populated by people who have some kind of a connection with some ephemeral greatness that nobody else really understands but everybody instinctively understands. Nobody can just penetrate the In Crowd - you can try to hang on the periphery like Winnona Ryder did in Heathers, but it's just never the same.

But now? I'm the one in the In Crowd. After decades of not belonging, I have FINALLY made it big.

You see, I have a car. And this car? Well, it's a special car. Not many people have this car, and those of us that do? Well, we smile at each other as we pass on the street even though we don't know each other, content in our vehicles, smugly knowing that we are better than anybody else out there because we have a LANDCRUISER.

Yes, that's right. A Toyota Landcruiser. But not that new piece of crap that they brought out this year that is masqerading as a Landcruiser with the faux-retro look that every car company is trying to cash in on. And not the Yuppie-mobile of the late 80s and early 90s.

No, I have a REAL Landcruiser. It's a 1983 - the last year they imported the FJ40 from Japan into the US. The thing can literally climb a greased pole. It used to belong to my brother-in-law for years. When I first met The Husband, he was actually borrowing it from his brother. And throughout the years, it has come to live with us on occasion when BIL thought that we would have fun with it and he wasn't using it.

The last time it came to live with us, The Husband gave it a brand new paint job and then managed to accidentally drive it through the wall of our garage and then use it to push the wall back into place. Yeah, you read that right. It really was an accident! Luckily, the thing's such a tank that it really didn't matter that he had driven it through the wall. And there were only a few paint touch-ups that he had to do. But the cannisters of different calliber reloading brass that were scattered across the floor of The Husband's garage was certainly a sight to be seen. He cried a little bit when he realized the task he was going to have to deal with sorting that stuff out. I would have cried as well.

Anyway, last year we bought it from BIL. I have coveted this vehicle since before The Husband and I ever dated. And since we sold our house for mucho profit (well to us, not to The Donald), we had some Benjamins left over to buy me a new car. Now, I could have gotten something new. But no. I wanted the twenty-year-old tank. And so, I got it.

This thing is awesome. Not only do the top, doors and sides all come off, exposing the full roll cage inside, but the windshield can also fold down flat if you want to have that safari look and have bugs fly into your mouth for dinner and things like that. Add to that that I can go anywhere offroad that I want to, and I've got a killer vehicle.

So now that it's summer around here (again!) The Husband spent a few days making my Crusher airconditioned for me, taking off everything, and putting on the new bra top and half-doors.

And I get to drive around, feeling sassy with the wind going through my hair, looking down on the pretty people in their expensive but banal and trite convertibles being the sheeple that they are, knowing that I belong to an In Crowd that they don't and would probably never even qualify for. And one that they could never even begin to imagine how to break into.

Revenge is sweet.