The eyes are the windshields to the soul

I think that a person's car is like an autobiographical symphony to the senses. Everyone I know who has a car manages to make their vehicle a tactile extension of themselves. Beginning with smell, one of the key senses of memory, the smell of a car really indicates a lot. I'm not talking about stink; that usually just means you need to clean your car, or something died inside it, or your brother was driving it. I'm talking about the smell that gets stamped onto the very illustration that is a caricature of your car. Two cars which come to mind is one that belongs to the only person who regularly reads this; her car smells distinctly of chocolate Lipsmakers lip balm. I don't even think she uses Lipsmakers, yet somehow this scent has become the strongest identifying feature of her car. The second car that comes to mind is the one I caught a lift to brunch in this morning. This Volkswagen smells deliciously of cigarettes. Now, I know the words “deliciously” and “cigarettes” shouldn't belong in the same sentence, but the scent is more than tobacco and poison set on fire. It's the scent of clove, tobacco and poison set on fire, all mixed with the scent that was already in her car (one that was a combination of moldy bread and clean laundry). It's magnificent.
Moving on to the actual items to be found in a person's car, they are so very telling. Even if a person's car is spotless, this still reveals a lot about where that person is in their life or in their month or in their week. The ratio of items on the floor to set ratio is worth noting. Patterns too should be paid attention to. Are there an inordinate number of coat hangers strewn about? Or maybe bags or cups from a store or eatery he or she likes to frequent. Books, magazines and foodstuffs are another good indicator. While riding in the deliciously cigarettey car this morning, I couldn't help but notice there was a case of root beer in the back seat. Seated next to it was a worn copy of The Princess Diaries. The book, not the movie. I pointed this out to my friend, to which she responded, “Yup. That's me. This is my car. You're in my world.” So true.