When I was a kid, I drove my grandparents crazy with my constant, undying need to enter a car through an open window rather than opening the door like a decent human being. I'd just grab the roof and jump up, and for the most part, I'd glide through the window like an acrobat and land in the passenger seat. (There were a few times when it just didn't work out. Painful times.)
I had this obsession because back then, I was a huge fan of THE DUKES OF HAZZARD. It's not as fucking weird as you would think. Kids love explosions. They love car stunts. They love high speed chases. But more than these things, they love to see a bumbling idiot get ridiculed, especially if that bumbling idiot is an authority figure. Yet even more than that, they love to see mean assholes get thwarted. Constantly.
THE DUKES OF HAZZARD had these things, so I watched it pretty religiously. I couldn't give two tugs of a dead dog's cock about southern culture or any of that yee-haw garbage. I just loved that other shit. But most importantly, them Duke boys shore knew how to get in a car.
As an adult, I've watched a few episodes, and they're awful. But as a boozehound, I DO appreciate a family bootlegging business, and I enjoy this particular aspect of the show. (Plus I appreciate seeing authority figures as bumbling idiots and mean assholes getting bent over at every opportunity.)
But even now, as an adult, I have a particular problem. I don't see a parked car with an open window often in these modern times, but when I do, I have an overwhelming urge to grab the roof, jump up and then glide into the passenger seat.