I bought an electric car. I thought I was going green. Quiet, clean, economical... That's what they say. And people believe it.
Turns out peace was not included in the package.
Now I look at the screen as soon as I get in the car. I don't care about the weather. I'm looking at the percentage.
At first you think you'll get used to it. You don't.
Life is divided into percentages.
You're comfortable at 60 percent.
At 40 percent, you still say it will be okay.
At 30 percent, you start to calculate internally.
At 20 percent “we'll take care of it” the era is coming to an end.
After that “why did I get into this business” Time.
You take off more slowly. You press the gas with cotton wool. When you see the red light in the distance, you take your foot off the gas instead of slamming on the brakes. You open the window, you delay the air conditioner. If it's cold, you heat the seat, not the cabin. You become observant of the car's every movement. When you come downhill, a small joy passes through you.
There are also charging stations.
On the map. In reality, most of the time not. It's either closed or broken. Sometimes it works, but two cars are stuck and you're the third.
Sometimes it works, but it's so slow that you leave the car and go for a cup of tea. You come back. It's still not full. Meanwhile you start talking to yourself.
22 kW is not charging. It's a waiting room.
You put the car in. You sit down. You get a coffee. Then another. You answer the phone. You look around. You think about life. You look back; the car has moved 3 percent.
Sometimes the charger locks up. You can't unplug it or charge it. You just stand there. That's when you experience real helplessness.
And then there's the charging queue.
There are two cars attached. You're the third.
You're polite at first. You wait, of course. Like a human being.
Five minutes pass.
Ten minutes pass.
You look in the next car. There's no one inside. The owner went to the mall.
Twenty minutes later you start talking to yourself:
“He probably went to get a toast.”
Forty minutes.
There's no chance of toast anymore. He could be dead.
You're sitting in the car, in the charging queue, questioning your life.
After a while you lock eyes with the other waiting people. No one speaks but everyone is thinking the same thing:
“When are you coming out?”
It wasn't like this in a gasoline car. The tank would run out, you'd pull into the station, you'd be out in five minutes. Here, there is a ceremony. Opening the application, entering the password, not accepting it, swiping the card, inserting the receipt. The screen goes round and round...
Then connection failure.
That's when all the calmness goes away.
The number of electric vehicles is on the rise. The commercials are spinning. The future is being told. But infrastructure is not coming at the same pace. Maybe it is somehow managed in the city, but the long way is still an adventure. You make a plan before you set off. You know where you will stop, how long you will stay.
But it shouldn't be like this.
Finding a charging station shouldn't be a special skill. We shouldn't strategize our way out. Life should not be reshaped because we fall below 20 percent.
Technology has changed. Cars became quieter. Engines are gone.
But the fear of being stranded remains.