They tried to give me a Buick LaCrosse

Buick LaCrosse? I don't think so. And then they tried to pawn a Grand Am or other piece of crap on me. I had to ask three times for something unAmerican before they gave me the pictured Toyota Camry¹.

Somewhat unfortunately, the new Camry is only modestly evolutionary from older models. The drivetrain is adequate, the steering is vague, and the styling is inoffensive. The interior is still better than American competitor's, but isn't as fancy as a Honda's. The suspension is satisfyingly isolating and not entirely reassuring when flogged.

The only substantial differences between this car and my 1998 model is the addition of a fifth gear. Oddly, the five-speed automatic shifter fitted to this unit is newer than the similar four-speed unit in my RAV4, but is far notchier and akward.

Oh, and the new gauges glow pale light blue. Bleh.

Unfortunately, the only absolutely infuriating problem with my old Camry has left unfixed. My seating position drove my right knee into the plastic surrounding the center console and the starter switch, and the ergonomics are just as bad in the new Camry. The keys smack my right knee the entire time I'm driving, and the layout doesn't give me any room to stretch my leg. Judging by rap videos and action movies, practically nobody actually sits with proper posture anymore, so this probably isn't too much of a problem—but it drives me absolutely batty.

Ergonomics aside, the car was infinitely less infuriating to drive than the older American rentals I've had. I'm sure the new Camry is a fantastic vehicle for people who like to buy a car and never think about it ever again—but for me, it's just too uninvolving.

¹ Admittedly, I allowed that a Dodge Charger would also be acceptable—I've been itching to drive one of those for a while, since they're rear-wheel-drive and aren't styled like a butt pimple. Unfortunately, the Charger is out of my rental group, so I got the Camry, instead.