Bathroom Monologue: Of Car Culture

The two most important things in the county are cars and children. They are signs of fortune. The custom with new cars is for a neighbor, normally your best friend, to come over and take a look. He will do some damage to the vehicle; perhaps crush a bug on the windshield, or make a scrape on the hood. The damage is seldom inside the vehicle, usually around the front so the new owner will see it every time he walks around. If it’s a stain, he is not to wash it off. And if it a permanent knick, he does not complain. The point is to relieve anxiety, for every new car is worn down and produces problems that unharassed owners obsess over. The car that has been marked by a neighbor reminds its owner every day that little imperfections will accrue, and they do not matter.

The same sort of friendly is not done to newborn children when they are brought home, as within hours a baby shits itself. Babies require less disillusionment than cars, and strangely, the men come over less to see them.