I don't buy used cars

Even a couple of days after saying it, I can't seem to shake this simple sentence. How arrogant is that? "I don't buy used cars." It gives me a very large pause in my life. Or very many small ones depending on how you look at and see time. I recall the delighted shriek of laughter one of my former ride partners emitted upon actually seeing the logo on the front of my shirt one day. It read, "I'm An Arrogant Bastard" for Arrogant Bastard Ale. Funny, at the time I laughed with her, but years later I still think about that moment sitting outside a coffee shop in Lake Tahoe. She wasn't delighted with the logo. She was delighted that I would freely proclaim what I was.

It's not like used cars are my only hang-up. I will only buy the 2nd or 3rd magazine in a stack because I want a fresh copy. Even if I perused the top one to see if there is enough content inside to buy it, the top one goes back on the rack and nice fresh one goes under my arm for purchase. It's also not like I drive a new car either. Mine is used. Not gently either. But, it was new when I bought it. So were the two before that. So what makes the car I drive today any different that one purchased used? Ego? I want to know that I'm the only driver? Sure, a small argument could be made for the idea that you never know what the prior owner did to a car, but we live in an age of pre-certified used vehicles.

Certified with a 40-point inspection. It's more than we get from a partner in a new relationship isn't it? We know the chassis will be in working order. Decent headlights that are aimed properly. Bodywork is clean and smooth and the fuel pumps to the appropriate chambers for explosion which of course drives the pistons.

Perhaps I should rethink this whole I don't buy used cars deal.