Here’s a useless factoid I love: According to the Office of Sustainability, there are nine hybrid gas vehicles in the U’s fleet. Most of which, I believe, are the Toyota Prius.

The Prius is as silent as a Utah County democrat. Almost eerily so. Just the other day, I saw a Prius belonging to Campus Security roll up behind a pedestrian crossing Presidents Circle (he was not in the crosswalk, I might add) and come to a halt. The pedestrian casually looked behind him and went into an exaggerated spasm of shock and surprise to find a car right there. Hilarious. The Prius is the automotive world’s version of a chubby, but effective, ninja.

I drive a Prius. I’m not bragging about it. It’s a good little car. Easy on the gas, not so easy on the eyes. It may look like a severed toe, but the little beast navigates around campus potholes like an overly caffeinated ballet dancer. It has survived multiple dings from my own fist (there’s, ahem, this anger issue I have with locked doors, ice-slicked parking lots, other human beings, etc., and the poor Prius usually bears the brunt of my frustration with Life 101), and it capably rolled away from a multi-car pileup on South Campus Drive a while back with little damage. (I’d like to publicly apologize to the poor student in the Honda who rear-ended me that day: I take back everything I said about your haircut and your ancestors. Your hair was impeccably coifed and I’m sure your forebears were very nice people. See the previous parenthetical statement for a brief explanation about the anger thing.) The Prius is a tank, believe it or not. A fuel-sipping tank that fell out of the automotive ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down.

BTW, go here for an amusing review of Honda’s new hybrid, courtesy of the Times Online. Best damn auto review I’ve ever read.