Monday, December 5, 2011

Zipping Around Town


Zip Car gets to strut around like they’re something special. With their washed cars free of sticky cup holders and extensive body damage. But Zip Car isn’t all maintenance and new car smell. Remember all those times you thought you found that one open parking space, right up front, that somehow everyone else missed? But when you got up there, it wasn’t an available spot, was it? 
And Zip Car isn’t just unfair to outsiders looking for a good parking spot, the service is also unfair to members. I know this because, though it pains me, I am a Zip Car member. Look, I’m sorry, but sometimes I just finished eating a burrito and I don’t want to propel my bike and body weight up any hills, or even across any flat surfaces. (If it was all down hill, all the time, Zip Car would be out of business.)
Zip Car misleads customers by painting themselves as the simple, stress-free car rental experience. Oh, how convenient, the closest car is about a mile from my house and it’s a pickup truck! And don’t worry, if the truck’s checked out, I can just walk two more miles to the next Zip Car! Often times the only reason I want a Zip Car is because it’s raining. Now look at me. Soaked.
Even after you finally arrive at your Zip Car, you still can’t relax. You have to get into this unfamiliar car, adjust the mirrors somehow, find the windshield wiper controls, figure out why the doors aren’t locking— all while being screamed at by anger-rap and vibrating slightly from the bass because apparently the pervious driver was hard of hearing and mad about it. 
And actually driving the Zip Car isn’t any better. Time after time I find myself driving down the road, terrified of new blind spots, trying to figure out how to turn off my brights, and then it hits me! I forgot to look for and report any damage before I started driving! If the previous driver dented the door or something I’m going to have to pay for it. Plus, if I cause any damage I’m going to have to pay for that too because I didn’t remember to report any fake damage in my usual “problem areas” (rear bumper, front fender corners). 
Returning the Zip Car is no simple matter. The car must be returned to the original parking space it was picked up from. So, you cannot drive to meet your friends at a movie, park at another Zip Car spot, and forget about the car forever. Instead, you can park the car, keep paying for it while you watch the movie, tell that boy you like you can’t ride home with him because you have to return the Zip Car to it’s original space, and then drive back to the original space— at which point you can finally stop paying for the car.
Now, I must admit, there are some positives to Zip Car. You don’t have to talk to, or be seen by, anyone in order to use the service. Signing up and renting out a car is all done online. And picking up the car requires no human interaction, you just swipe your card. It’s great if, for example, you haven’t changed out of your night clothes in three days and you just want to go to the grocery store really quick to get some more ice cream because, if we look at your pants, you clearly spilled quite a bit of your previous ice cream and probably didn’t get your fill. 
 Oh, another great thing about Zip Car is that their luxury cars don’t display the logo anywhere. So whoever sees you pulling out of the high school reunion parking lot will be much more likely to believe that you actually are a wealthy Google Brain Surgeon. And they thought there was no such thing and that you were an idiot. 
Although I’m pretty much against Zip Car, I will continue to use it. I mean, what am I going to do, buy a car? Figure out the bus schedule? Just stay my room, under the covers, and have my groceries delivered? While that last option does seem ideal (especially if I had Netflix), I think we all know I can’t do that. Sooner or later, I’ll stop getting out of bed to open the door for the grocery delivery man and I’ll die of starvation. Thus, Zip Car is a necessary evil in my life.