First of all, a Jeep isn't a Jeep unless it has dirt on it.
Preferably, stratified layers of dirt that a thousand years later will be excavated by a team of curious archaeologist who will wonder who you were and why you were buried propped up behind the wheel of your beloved vehicle with the keys clasped in your hand. They will speculate that your idea of heaven must have been a rough, rocky, treacherous, mountainous country and they would be right. They will be able to trace your life's journey based on those layers of grime.
Lady, your pristine, white Jeep sparkled in the morning sunshine. Actually SPARKLED.
Your vanity license plate said "Princess".
I thought I was going to be sick.
Secondly, a true Jeep (Wrangler) should not be four-door.That thing is nothing but a glorified Hummer and I'm sorry, but Hummers are stoopud. Jeep doors are supposed to be attached with a single steel bolt and a strap for quick removal and storage in the garage. This prohibits options like power locks and windows. The roof should be completely removable as well. As a result, at least once, the Jeep should have been filled to the windows with water because you forgot to put the top up and there was a freak summer thunderstorm. Or you drove into a river.
Lastly, Jeep manufacturers would weep - weep, I tell you - if they had seen you slow down to creep over those railroad tracks one wheel at a time. I sat behind you in my dirty red Jeep with a few of last years dead leaves still tossing around in the backseat and yelled, "Really?? REALLY??!" The crack in my windshield was catching the glare of the sun so I couldn't get an accurate description of you, or I would have reported you to SAVAJ (Society for Abused Vehicular and All-terrain Jeeps). I waited the ten minutes for you to finally get across and then gunned my own vehicle, flying over the tracks and jouncing so hard at the end of my seatbelt tether that it left a bruise.
Get a Beemer, Lady.
A Jeep Owner