When I realized last weekend that I’d have to spend at least five days in Woodland, CA on active standby for my frost contract, I shopped around for a car rental. (My truck and camper are waiting for me in Las Vegas; long story there.) As I always do when renting a car, I picked the cheapest car they had to offer, which turned out to be a “Ford Fiesta or Similar” at $228/week. Not a great deal, but the best I could find.

A friend took me to Sacramento Airport to pick it up around midday on Saturday. I waited on a short line. When I got to the counter and handed over my ID and credit card, the guy at the counter looked at me and asked, “Just you?”

I assumed he wanted to know if there was a second driver. “Just me,” I replied.

“Would you mind taking a Camaro for the same price?”

I don’t think I’ve ever driven a Camaro. And I didn’t even know Chevy still made them. I figured it was a watered down version of the 1980s muscle car, but at least it was something different. I told him that was fine and we finished up my paperwork.

To my surprise, the car isn’t watered down at all. It’s a 2018 Camaro SS with less than 10,000 miles on it. I haven’t popped the hood, but the engine growls when revved and its performance isn’t the least bit disappointing. The car looks hot, sounds powerful, and goes fast.

I guess the car rental guy thought it would be safe in the hands of a middle aged woman. Joke’s on him.

Although I don’t really like the car and would never consider buying one — terrible visibility, tiny windows, coffin-like feeling — I do admit that I’m having fun with it. After driving my truck for the past 2+ months, it’s nice to be in something sporty. I’ll have it until Saturday and will likely take it on at least one road trip to either Napa or San Francisco (or both) between now and then.