9/10/11 Driving the 500 – Fun Times in a Girl Car

I had been writing on Maria’s rooftop patio and baking in the sun for a couple of hours; I needed hydration.  On my way downstairs Maria and my mom called me into the kitchen.  Immediately, Maria tried to feed me.  Even though I had gained a bit of weight over the past couple of weeks she still thought I was too skinny.  “Do you want some salami?  Some cheese?  A salad?  I could make you some french fries.”  Hell, I could have asked for a roast beef dinner right then and there and Maria would have made it appear.  She’s that accommodating with her kitchen.  I politely refused her offers in an attempt to keep my growing midsection in check.

The house was hot, dinner would be hot, and the red wine that would likely be offered would make me even hotter.  I asked Maria where I would be able to buy some beer.  Anna, her daughter who lives in the 3^rd floor flat with her husband Nicola and their sons Francesco and Rocco, said she had to go to the store as well.  She’d take me.

The garage door opened to reveal Anna’s car, a Fiat 500 (cinquecento).  Anna noted my reaction and said “You drive” as she threw me the keys.   My first order of business was to grind the gears while trying to find reverse.  “Ma va fanculo!” (Go fuck yourself) I grumbled to the car as I looked over to Anna with an apologetic grimace.  Anna did a pretty good job of hiding her nervousness; thankfully it was the only time the transmission would be abused at my hands.  The rest of the drive was as smooth as silk.

I’ve liked the 500 ever since I first saw them in Italy a few years ago, and now that they’ve started selling them in Canada, I thought it would be a fun car to have.  Earlier during this trip while in Macerata, Marco told me that I should be careful: “A 500 is a girl car and everyone knows it”.  Anna agrees; with very few exceptions most of the people she knows who drive them are women.

If I look back at all my cars over the years, I don’t count a single “girl car” among them.  Some might argue that my Crossfire is a girl car, an opinion punctuated by the fact that I’ve been told the car is “cute” a couple of times.  Hearing that is just as painful as stabbing me in the ears with a flaming sharp heavy thing.  No, a Crossfire is a girl car when it’s a convertible with an automatic.  Mine’s a hardtop with a manual, so I figure that I’m in the clear.  Yes, I know I’m reaching.

Anna could see I was enjoying myself, so after getting the beer we stretched the drive out a little.  She forgot that I wasn’t from here and gave me some extremely late directions.  I hit the brakes hard and grabbed a fistful of steering wheel to make the corner.  We both had a laugh and I told her that with directions like that I’d end up in jail.  Anna laughed even louder since her husband Nicola is a cop.  She knows all the cops in this small town; they’d be more concerned about the strange guy driving Nicola’s wife around town.  I stopped laughing… Nicola may be a pleasant friendly guy, but he carries a gun.

So back to the question: is the 500 a girl car?  I’m undecided.  It’s the same size and style as a mini, but I’m undecided on that one too.  I’ll have to wait for a test drive of the high performance Abarth version to make my final judgment.