I’m going to go on record here: totaling my purple Saturn was the best thing that has ever happened to my love life.

Let me explain. When the chick in the Scion plowed into my ’93 plum-colored POS, thereby destroying it but thankfully not me, I had to buy a new vehicle. Naturally, I decided to buy the ultimate California ride – a 2004 white Jeep Wrangler with tan leather interior and a decent but not obnoxious sound system. Since then, I have discovered that the Jeep is a total dude magnet.

Seriously. It’s like Mardi Gras - ever since I took the top off, the guys have come swarming. (Ba-dum-ching.) I’m guessing it’s the whole rugged, athletic, outdoorsy chick thing that does it for them. I find this hilarious, because one would think that within five minutes of talking to me – standard dressed in an old race t-shirt, pair of shorts, running shoes and a pony tail – you could figure this out. Nope. Apparently, it takes a vehicle to do this. The Jeep gives me street cred.

Additionally, I keep the Jeep stocked with a trail book, some electrolyte gels, a softball glove, a sketch book and plenty of obscure and classic rock music… which all ostensibly add to my Jeep-driver charm. I am actually frightened to insert either a surfboard or snowboard into this mix. I don’t think I could keep the men off me, and really, I just don’t have time for that.

The following are just a few examples of the types of encounters the Jeep has afforded me:

A. Here it is necessary to note that I have adorned the back of the Jeep with a Mizzou wheel cover. Apparently a man named Joe is overjoyed to see that another person from Mizzou and/or Missouri lives amongst the roughly 17 million residents of the greater LA area, enough so that he felt the need to express this in writing and affix it under my windshield wiper. According to his note, I seem like a really cool girl and therefore, he would like to know if I want to “gets” some coffee sometime. He has bad grammar, so clearly I never called.

B. While driving north on the 101 one sunny afternoon, a gentleman in a Toyota Tundra pickup decided to follow me off at my exit because he felt a pressing need to inform me that in his opinion, I am beautiful. He asked for my phone number at the stoplight; I only gave him my name. Evidently this was enough information for him to locate my picture on Facebook… my profile is private, but he was still able to ascertain my last name and place of employment. Get this: the guy actually called my company and left a message on my voicemail. I obviously refrained from returning this call. I mean, the Chevy Silverado is a far superior truck. And I would never date a Toyota guy.

Other things I have heard:
“You drive a Jeep? Now I really AM in love with you.”
“You drive a Jeep? That’s so hot.”
“You drive a Jeep? Let’s make out.”

That said, the Jeep is NOT a good place to make out. The stick shift causes issues. And by issues I mean bruises. And by bruises, I mean both to the knee and to the soul.

Adventurous Jeep owner Katie is running her next marathon to raise money for AIDS Project Los Angeles. Click HERE to learn more and find out how you can help her next 26.2 miles make a difference in the lives of over 42 million people living with HIV/AIDS.