Lessons about life I learned from my car

College has been a great experience for me so far. It's taught me so much about life, people and how my car can also serve as a closet/kitchen/trash can/ dining room.

Now, I had this problem as a high school student, but it's grown into a somewhat larger issue. Passengers can no longer just sit down. It takes a statement such as, "Sorry, my car's a mess!" or "You can just throw all that stuff in the back." or perhaps, "Oh crap, watch out for the CDs!" before anyone can even think about riding in just the passenger seat.

And to make matters worse, my car is a two door. So to get in the back seat requires approximately two weeks of rigorous training at boot camp, a week of strategizing, and an itinerary from the FBI so as to avoid stepping on the umbrella, the shattered CD case, or the unopened package of strawberry jam from Burger King.

It's all these combinations of food, clothing, and strawberry jam that may be causing some unique and sometimes pleasing odors in my vehicular home.

"Sam, your car smells like pickles," one friend said.

I never noticed so I asked a different person the next day as they got in.

"It smells like pickles in here doesn't it?"

"No, it smells like bananas," the person said matter-of-factly as if a banana tree was growing out of the air-conditioning vents.

Let me add that neither one of those objects are in my car -- at least not to my knowledge.

"Your car smells really good," another person added one day.

"Oh, thanks," I replied hesitantly, wondering if they were smelling the remnants of the chicken quesadillas I had eaten at Taco Bell earlier that day.

I haven't even gotten to the clothes yet. There's a pair of shorts on the floor of my front seat that I don't have the slightest idea why they're there. It's like I just decided one day I would take these shorts to my car and not use them. They would lay there as an added decoration and would soon be sucked under the seats where an invisible vacuum sits which takes in everything around it -- including the packet of strawberry jam that I was going to use on my biscuit that I was eating -- while I was driving.

That'd make for an interesting police report.

"I'll tell you exactly what happened officer!" the other person would yell in anger while pointing at his wrecked car. "He was eating a damned biscuit!"

"Not only that," the police officer would add, "Those banana trees he had growing probably played a part in the accident as well. I mean, come on, don't you smell it?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of pickles!" the innocent bystander randomly yells from across the street.

Sam DeReign is a graduate of Oran High School and attends Southeast Missouri State University. Contact him at sdereign@ semissourian.com.