It was a good car, one that got me through a lot. Then I decided I was far too cool for such a standard automobile, so I worked a little harder and got a sporty little thing that didn't really have much pick up:
This car got me many speeding tickets, as well as many honks from truck drivers on the interstate. I had it for a few years before I got the urge to purchase yet another vehicle (a '76 Mercury Monarch, a car that my mother ironically drove a newer version of way before I was born), which I got for the stellar price of $800 - paid for in cold, hard cash. So, for a time, I was the proud, gluttonous owner of two cars.
Did you see the awesome tree house in my backyard?Anyway, The Monarch (affectionately known as The Beast) was so totally bad ass that I could not pass it up. It had a V8 engine, huge leather bench seats, no power steering and windows tinted so dark I once got pulled over by a cop who said they needed to be stripped. I bought this car in the summer, which was convenient because it didn't really drive in the snow or rain. Before long, the brakes went out and it had to go. This was around the same time that the transmission in the little red Tiburon decided to stop working, so I was in the car market once again.
So one fine day, which happened to be the day a cousin of mine got married, I met the Mazda. I have loved each and every one of my cars in a very special way (not that special) but this one was different. As my sister put it, this was my "grown up car". It was my first with four doors, had power locks, windows and seats, cruise control AND a sunroof. Here's a picture:
This car was really great. It lasted longer than the marriage of said cousin.
The Friday before Christmas, this car was totaled by a drunk driver while it sat in my driveway (or rather, the driveway of my boyfriend's parents). The corresponding story is long, frustrating and frankly, almost unbelievable. Suffice it to say that a large, middle aged man with a long white beard ran the rear truck tire of his company truck over the front side of my car, rendering it worthless. Oh, he was wearing a Santa hat. And he drove away after it happened, which just fueled the reasoning behind me calling the cops on him and landing his sorry self in jail. Apparently, he didn't even realize that he had done this:
In case you can't quite tell, the hood was crushed and pushed up around the wheel well. The lights were shattered and the container with the windshield wiper fluid (at least, I think it was the wiper fluid) was hanging to the ground. It wasn't pretty.I don't know if you've ever been lucky enough to spend a week dealing with various insurance companies and ensuing issues, but I wouldn't recommend it. I eventually managed to obtain a rental car that was paid for with insurance other than my own, which was nice because I was scheduled to drive back to Indiana exactly two business days after the incident. His insurance company didn't come to take my poor car away until last Saturday, over two weeks after it was mauled. So to make matters worse, I had to walk past my sad little friend and be reminded of how unfairly our relationship had come to an end - I mean, I wasn't even in it. My faithful old car didn't deserve to go out like that. I plan on writing a poem to commemorate it.
Last night was my final night with any independent mode of transportation. I turned in the rental and today was my first day in 78,336 days that I did not technically own a motor vehicle. It's a very strange feeling, but I think I'm going to have to get used to it. I can carpool with James and drive his car when need be, plus I won't really need it once we move closer to public transportation. Still, it's slightly unsettling. I am glad that I'm reducing my carbon footprint, though, so there's the silver lining...always find the silver lining!
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