I hardly pay attention anymore. Nay, that’s not true. I now dread charging stops.
I drive like I stole it, it automatically routes me to my charging stops, where I rush like a madman to the restroom and then attempt to get some food before the car starts sending me repeated count down messages. Ultimately I end up with a Snickers and have to race back to the car. I curse and vow to be faster next time.
It’s become a competition between me and the car that I don’t relish. I find myself planning trips that will hit V1 chargers, where I have a chance of at least obtaining a hot beverage or bottle of water.
On a serious note, the other day I get in my ICE car and it dings at me. I think to myself: why are you dinging at me? You dinged last time I drove you. I ignore it and off I go to run errands. At my third stop, I get in and this time when it dings at me yet again I get this overwhelming sense of Danger, Will Robinson, Danger!
So I sit there idling and polluting the very air we breathe waiting for the epiphany to come. About two minutes later I glance thru the steering wheel and am surprised to see a cluster of stuff and a light flashing. Then I have a panic attack as I realize it’s the ‘hey, stupid! You’re about to run out of fuel light.
I look to my left and there’s a bank of Superchargers and a wave of relief sweeps through me as I put the car in drive, only to have the panic return full throttle as I realize; you ain’t driving the Tesla, moron!
So, now I’m wracking my brain trying to remember where the closest gas station is at that end of town and I’m drawing a blank. I then remember I can just punch gas station into the comp... No, I can’t!!
In desperation I start driving around and as I’m in search of the elusive gas station my panic turns into anger. Never have I ever run out of gas in my entire life and if I do right now then there’s a divorce on the horizon since clearly this is all my spouse’s fault for being born and needing the Tesla that day.
By the time I find a gas station I’ve hired the best divorce attorney on the planet, acquired all the property including the mountain, the Tesla, and the cat and put my spouse in a cardboard box under an overpass for the rest of their lives.
I pull up to a pump, shut off the car, get a credit card, get out of the car, open the gas cap, go to put my credit card in the pump and Blammo! Ducted tape to the pump is an out of order sign. Have a hissy fit, take away the spouse’s cardboard box, get back in the car and start it up, it DINGS at me and I lose it, cursing in 15 different languages and realizing that’s not enough ways to say what needs to be said and vow to learn the words in at least five more languages.
True story. And the moral is: stop complaining and criticizing, just buy and hold.