Now that The Boy’s car is once again road worthy, whenever I have to go into town for errands, if he goes with, he wants to drive.
His Infiniti Q45 is a barge, only six inches shorter than his dad’s full-sized truck. His sister calls it his “old man” car.
An already low-riding car, he dropped it down even more – to only about 4 inches above the road. He has 18x11jj wheels on the front, and 18x10jj wheels on the back – I don’t know what that means, but it’s some fairly wide wheels. The rear wheel camber is -3.5 degrees – again no idea why this is important, only that it looks like the back tires are folding into the wheel wells.
All of that means that there is no graceful way to make a grand exit from the passenger’s side of the car. I basically have to roll out, and hope I don’t fall on my face.
I was relating this difficulty to the Mister, and he admonished his son for not helping me, for not holding the door and offering a hand out.
“This ain’t no driving Miss Daisy,” The Boy said.
Some people’s children….