This is LITERALLY a visual explanation of my comprehension of cars, car purchasing, how they work, or why. I became an adult, and was an adult quite a few years in a city that didn’t require them. My car died yesterday and I’m cluelesss. How, where, financing, breed… zero interest or mojo for all this adulting and ironically the girl that went from living above a heavily trafficked Williamsburg subway to a farm that can’t get delivery, uber, taxis (which is quite all right with me; however I need one once in a while) is really not understanding how to proceed. I. Hate. Cars. So …. is it morally or ethically wrong to ride Rufus?