Ok. Where was that going, anyway...? The car. My Alero. Not my first car, mind you - that would be a hand-me-down Plymouth Voyager minivan, courtesy of my adoring parents. Of course, little did they know that one fateful day I would launch that van over a cliff into an icy lake on Christmas Eve. But, that's really not what we're talking about...
The Alero was the first car I, myself, purchased - a doozy of a vehicle, what with it's four doors and steering wheel. AND the rear spoiler, which, to this day, I still maintain made the car go faster.
Just LOOK at that spoiler!!! Even parked, it's practically a blur!Of course, this vehicle, too, became subject to the harrowing hazards of the road - frankly, I blame Virginia. I don't think it actually matters where you're from, you can always say, "At least people knew how to drive in (insert your hometown here)!" (They don't.) But, I mean, seriously - at least people knew how to drive in upstate New York! (They don't.) Regardless, only a few months into my Virginia residentdom, a crazed woman on the highway gave me this:
To be fair, someone else hit me in that exact spot AGAIN this year... A terrifying double denting!
To be fair, someone else hit me in that exact spot AGAIN this year... A terrifying double denting!A hit-and-run several years later that nearly ended in a high speed chase down the back streets of the worst part of town, with me in hot pursuit of the offending crackheads left me with this:
I'm sad because crackheads jacked my license plate.
Why I never got any of these things fixed speaks more to the costly, sinister nature of car repair, and is, in part, why I so greatly admired this car. While I continued to neglect it, it began it's slow retaliation with laudable passive aggression. First, the dashboard vinyl peeled up. Then the fan stopped working on it's lower settings. The blinkers began functioning intermittently, and often only after rapidly pounding the 4-way button. The radio dial fell off. The driver's side window stopped opening. The passenger's side window stopped opening. The driver's side window started opening again. The driver's side window stopped closing. Eventually the motor would grind to a halt, and the entire pane of glass would drop out of it's track. Duct tape became a standard issue accessory.
I'm classy!
I'm classy!With eleven years under it's belt, the final act of abdication seemed to come when the tiny, ere unnoticed button holding up the seat belt simply fell off. As if to say, "I can take no more," my brave little toaster began it's sluggish decent into retirement, with no less than four not-entirely-detrimental emergency lights blinking sadly at me from the dash.
I have since purchased a new car. It's fabulous and shiny and new and everything you could ever possibly want in a car. But what it doesn't have yet is the history - the memories, the time spent, the sheer weight of garbage I pulled out of the Alero before trading it in. And that, is the real reason I write this. Because, apparently, to know me is to have looked at the contents of my car.
I have since purchased a new car. It's fabulous and shiny and new and everything you could ever possibly want in a car. But what it doesn't have yet is the history - the memories, the time spent, the sheer weight of garbage I pulled out of the Alero before trading it in. And that, is the real reason I write this. Because, apparently, to know me is to have looked at the contents of my car.
BEHOLD!!!!!!!!
Um, wow. Just... wow.
Um, wow. Just... wow.Shocking. Truly shocking. While the car was pretty messy, I'll admit, I had no idea the sheer volume of things that were living in my vehicle. I won't bore you with a detailed list, but allow me to reveal some of the more, shall we say interesting bits...
You never know when you might need a disguise. Or, um, multiple disguises...
High school tassel '99, TCC tassel '04, ODU tassel '08 - nearly my entire life's education.
"WAMP" license plate. Not mine. Not anyone's. Where did this come from? And why do I have it?!
6' roll of white canvas. And a wiffle bat. And a bag of plastic forks... Ah, the things I might have MacGyvered.
FIFTY-NINE City of Norfolk parking garage passes
And, finally, the item I found most terrifying of all...
The tiny plastic toy chest I was given to put my teeth into after they were broken off in a trap-door accident during a rehearsal for "Evil Dead: The Musical". Open. Empty. Which, if you haven't pieced together the horrors, means somewhere, there were teeth in my car. Real, broken human teeth. From my broken, human head. I shudder to think of this Blair Witch turn of events. For this reason alone I may have had to trade in the car.
I loved that car. Right to the end. It's beyond nice to have new - I never knew how warm my butt could be until someone heated the seat - but there is so much affection for the old. I'll miss you, dear friend! I hope they send you to a farm upstate where you can sip motor oil on a rickity front porch and shake your tires at birds that try to poop on you. You've more than paid your dues - I hope you have a lovely retirement!
Good work, old friend! RIP
You never know when you might need a disguise. Or, um, multiple disguises...
High school tassel '99, TCC tassel '04, ODU tassel '08 - nearly my entire life's education.
"WAMP" license plate. Not mine. Not anyone's. Where did this come from? And why do I have it?!
6' roll of white canvas. And a wiffle bat. And a bag of plastic forks... Ah, the things I might have MacGyvered.
FIFTY-NINE City of Norfolk parking garage passesAnd, finally, the item I found most terrifying of all...
The tiny plastic toy chest I was given to put my teeth into after they were broken off in a trap-door accident during a rehearsal for "Evil Dead: The Musical". Open. Empty. Which, if you haven't pieced together the horrors, means somewhere, there were teeth in my car. Real, broken human teeth. From my broken, human head. I shudder to think of this Blair Witch turn of events. For this reason alone I may have had to trade in the car.I loved that car. Right to the end. It's beyond nice to have new - I never knew how warm my butt could be until someone heated the seat - but there is so much affection for the old. I'll miss you, dear friend! I hope they send you to a farm upstate where you can sip motor oil on a rickity front porch and shake your tires at birds that try to poop on you. You've more than paid your dues - I hope you have a lovely retirement!
Good work, old friend! RIP
