Let me introduce you to The Beast – a 2005 Ford Excursion diesel with a roaring custom exhaust, a chip-thingie that makes it go stupidly fast and gobble up fuel at an alarming rate, and an impressive turbo whiny noise when I stomp on it.

The Tahoe found itself in the middle of a usage tug of war between my significant other and myself.  Poor confused SUV!  Was it a beer delivery vehicle?  A means to tow the horse trailer?  So I began the search for a new horse-trailer-towing truck, and fell in love with The Beast.

The PT Cruiser is still a blast to drive.  I love that little speedy mom-mobile too.  Hey, a girl can share her affections without fear of being called a car-slut, can’t she?  It’s 2014, after all.  Yeah, I still love the PT, but oh my how The Beast calls to me!

The horse-trailer-towing truck has somehow turned into my everyday vehicle, which leads to some observations:

• Parking is Problematic.  Side street parking isn’t wide enough to accommodate a Beast of this girth.  Even when I fold in the driver’s side mirror, I live in fear that someone is going to sideswipe my love.  They might scratch the paint, and total their own car.  I hate scratched paint.
• Parking Garages Need to Be Taller.  A few weeks ago I pulled into the Patrick Street deck and held my breath as I passed precariously close to the Your-Vehicle-Must-Be-No-Taller-Than-This padded bar.  I made it, but soon found out that my radio antenna hit every single steel beam in the fricken garage.  For three floors up, then three down when I left, ever single foot I heard “bang, bang, bang.”
• The Libertytown 7-11 Does Not Have Diesel.  My go-to, closest gas station doesn’t serve Beasts of any make or model.  I have to watch my gauge carefully and make sure I know where all the diesel stations are.  It’s kind of like having a bladder problem and knowing where the bathroom is in every single store. This is a serious issue since with the way I drive I get at best 13 MPG with this thing.
• People Get The Heck Out of Your Way.  This was a plus.  It’s amazing how courteous and kind other drivers are when you look like you could easily smush them with one tire tied behind your trunk.  There’s no road rage, no jerks cutting you off – everyone looks at The Beast with wide-eyed respect.  Or fear.  Either one is okay in my book.
• I’ve Become Sexy Again.  Ladies, the key to picking up hot redneck guys isn’t a push-up bra and a Corvette, it’s a jacked-up diesel.  I kid you not, The Beast is a man-magnet.  Of course, I now have an inexplicable urge to listen to Country Music.

My 17yo son wants to put an exhaust stack on it, lift it a few feet, and add a Longhorn rack to the hood.  I’m afraid to let him touch The Beast after the way he pimped up my PT Cruiser without permission (that was a dark day, my friends).  So no-go on the stack and lift kit.  I’m still thinking about the Longhorn rack, though.