When I was 15, I worked during the summer so I could save up for a car, I loved my first job at a coffee shop (story for another day). I saved everything so I could be free of my parents when I turned 16. My Uncle was selling his 1986 Mazda 626 lx for $600 and Sausage, my father, convinced me to buy it. It was not love at first sight.... It was not the color that you see in the picture by a maroon, about 6 different shades because the car had been hit multiple times and they never repainted it all. It was a stick, which I had to learn to drive. The car was still mine, I bought it and had a job to pay for insurance so all and all I could over look that the car was really ugly. I pimped it out the best way that I could, bought seat covers, steering wheel cover, and fuzzy dice all in leopard print. I put a princess crown in the back window, and about 5 Metallica stickers...oh yeah... I was the Shit. My Parents loved the car too, it meant that since I could drive myself I could drive Dumbass and Sookie back and forth to the every other weekend visitations to Sausages house (it was a hour 1 one way and 90 miles round trip). The car lasted 3 years after I bought it and I swear ran on love that had for it. I had lots and lots of adventures in that car so I plan on stretching this blog for a couple of posts. I loved that car... so much that when I went to trade it in (because the body gave out, not the engine...remember it ran on love) not only did I cry, but I yelled at the guy who was taking off the plates of my Mazda and placing them on my new car because he was basically RIPPING them off. They had no idea how hard it was for me to get rid of the car, even though I couldn't drive it anymore and the paint was so bad that I went to wash it one last time and paint was coming off on the rag. It was still mine and just like the first person you have sex with I don't think you ever forget you first car.
4 comments:
My first car was this godawful honda the color of turd. My dad bought it at a police auction.
I'm still trying to repress those memories.
The different responses to a "godawful" first car are interesting. Alice could easily have described her car as "godawful," based on looks, but she loved it for the freedom it brought her.
Expat, you've got to share with us what made your car so "godawful," other than the color. Did it break down all the time, leaving you a slave to your parents' whims about where they'd take you? Did folks ridicule you? What happened? We need details!
Alice -- I think you're right about never forgetting the first one -- boy -or- car!
I had an awesomely horrible first car too .. but I loved it lol. It was a 76 Gran Torino, I bought it in 1991 ;) It was primer gray, 'cause nobody ever repainted it, the seat covers were a mess, it was always full of clothes 'cause I practically lived in it, and that thing was a tank .. I never worried about getting hurt if I happened to wreck. :-) It lasted 4 years before I killed it
1983 (yes, 83!) Volkswagon Rabbit. Really old when The Brother bought it, even older when it passed to me. My, how I loved The Bunny.
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