Several years ago, when I first got a call about working here at Celilo Group Media, I had just torn the Zipcar coupon out of the book that very day (it was Flexcar then). Had I heard of the book? Of course I had! Did I ever redeem the coupon...er, no.

It wasn't just calculating the cost of gas, insurance, and upkeep that finally made me take the leap and sell my car--it was realizing that I drive so infrequently that spiderwebs connected the window to the steering wheel like something out of a cartoon. My bike was carrying me a dozen miles a day for free while I paid for spiders to practice tightrope walking between leather and glass. I sold the car and patted myself on the back (plus bought a pair of new shoes). And then, immediately, I missed an opportunity because I didn't have wheels.

That very weekend a friend's birthday BBQ was held at a park that was too late to bus to and too far (and vertical) to bike happily (6.6 mi, if you must know, up Barbur Blvd.). As a big fan of biking for transportation, I felt very, very lame. As a newly liberated car free person, I had failed. When people worry about selling their cars, it's situations like this that they think about. My new shoes hadn't even arrived yet and there I was, with orange ginger carrots (make them!) all ready to go, staring at Google maps in dismay.

And then I had to send a note on Facebook, admitting to all invited my lack of foresight and wimpy calf muscles. Tsk tsk, me. In order to live a smart, car-less life, I had to do better.

So I signed up for Zipcar using--yep--the coupon from our book. Unless you can get yours through work, this is the best deal I've found. The $25 application fee is waived, membership is $35 annually instead of $50, and you get $50 in driving credit (be warned, you must use it in the first month, which is not initially disclosed). That all makes me happy because I loathe paying application fees (I'm applying to pay you for a service, let me do it for free!) and because I suspect it will take me $50 worth of use to get the hang of making reservations for the correct amount of time (running over can cost you $50 if someone is waiting).

The online application was simple (you can't have more than two traffic incidents in the last three years, etc), and the very next day I trotted three blocks from our office to Zipcar and picked up my card. I admit, it's a relief knowing I now have the option, should I need it, to use a car.

There are more than 10 cars within 10 blocks of my house, with cutesy names to boot. The MoshiMoshi (how some people in Japan answer their phones) turns out to be the blue Mini Cooper convertible I've had my eye on, but it's one of the more expensive cars to rent hourly ($11.50). A few blocks closer is a Honda Civic Hybrid named Chehalem ($7). The Subaru Outback called Origami ($11.50) looks like just the thing for a Goodwill run this weekend, but I'm not telling my friends about Thaddeus ($11.50), a perfect-for-moving truck. The hourly cost covers gas (there's a card in the car) and insurance (unless you're at fault, at which point you pay up to $500). All are available right now, so if I need to dash out the door, I could. Carefully.

One more perk of membership is discounts at local businesses and with national partners, such as 30% off from Chronicle Books (perhaps buy yourself the book of Commuter Waiting Games or The Bad Girls Guide to the Open Road).

My next tasks: Scanning my card to open the car, and finding out if I can drive in other Zipcar cities including Seattle and San Francisco, and...London and Toronto.

Moshi moshi, carsharing!