My First Car

New ImageI was pretty proud of my first car.  An 80s something Ford Station wagon.  Complete with backwards facing seats, bench seats in the front that fit 3, and bullet holes… wait, what?  Bullet holes?

Ok, fine, they weren’t really bullet holes.  But they did certainly look like them.  See, this car was already old when I got my hands on it.  And it had survived many Midwestern winters.  So it was only natural that the car got a little rusty.

But my Dad had the brilliant idea to sand off all of the rust, prime over it and repaint the car.  Well, it would have been a brilliant idea … if we hadn’t gotten lazy and only completed the first step – sanding off the rust.  And you guessed it.  The rust came back.  But this time, since the doors were now thinner (thanks to the a-fore-mentioned sanding), the rust came back faster and more aggressively.  Pretty soon, the whole back side of the car was covered in little holes that looked just like bullet holes.  So (being of the mindset, never let the truth get in the way of a good story) I naturally let all of my fellow high-schoolers know that my car had been shot.  It made more sense then having to explain my Dad and I never got around to finishing yet another project.

But it was still my baby.  And I proudly drove it around town.  Much to my sister’s dismay.

I was one of the oldest in my class so I was the first to get a license and the keys to a car.  So of course I wanted to show it off.  My favorite part of the day was driving past the front of the school where all of those younger than me were still waiting for their parents to pick them up.

Unfortunately, my sisters’ thought this was much less cool.  And they ducked down in their seats and covered their heads with a towel.  Maybe if they couldn’t see out, maybe no one could see in.

Bad news sisters.  You didn’t fool anyone.

I still don’t know if it was because of the car or just the fact that they didn’t want to be seen with their much more dorky and definitely less social older sister.

My plan was to eventually paint little flowers around the each tiny hole.  But when this baby left me stranded on the side of the road, my parents decided it was time for me to start driving the much less cool but more reliable mini van!  And not just any mini van.  A dark blue Chevy Lumina mini van.

Van2I know, I know.  You are all jealous.

But let me tell you, this car was also great.  I could fit all (I swear there were more than 1) friends in the car and we could go anywhere we wanted.  Well, anywhere we could get on the $5 of gas anyway.

I think everyone should have to drive old, ugly cars.  Think about all that self-esteem I built for the cheap, cheap price of hand me down cars.

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