It really frustrates me how stereotypical people are with their vehicles. For instance, every time I pull up to a souped-up Honda Civic with an enormous spoiler and a 6″-wide exhaust pipe, I’m always secretly praying that the driver will be anyone OTHER than a young, style-conscious Asian dude with spiked hair.

I’m usually disappointed. Why are so people so predictable with their cars? Why is it that when I see one of those Hondas I can almost always know who’s going to be driving it? I want someone to surprise me one of these days — I want to pull up to one of those cars and find an aging Latina woman running errands, or a 16-year-old goth girl with hello kitty tattoos.

At least with the enormous Cadillacs with their tinted windows and shiny hubcaps you can find either African American men OR women. At least there’s some gender egalitarianism behind that stereotypical vehicle choice.

Then again, I have to assume that people pull up next to me (in my maroon mid-’90s Subaru Legacy with its rack on top) thinking to themselves, “Please let it not be another white woman, please let it not be another white woman … DAMN!