by Jill C. Hindman
The summer before my sophomore year of college I saved every penny that I had made working two jobs to save for a car. I finally got my car in August right before I came to school. My little, blue 89′ Dodge Sundance was not exactly my first pick of the litter but it was mine. Her name was Lily. I used to complain about my car all of the time, but then one day, the day after Thanksgiving, I had decided that I am going to take pride in my car and take care of it and just be thankful that I have it. That very same day I found out that my sister had crashed my car. Lily had wilted.
Over Christmas break I bought another car. It was an 84′ Honda Accord. It died the day after I got it. There was no naming this car. I did not even get a chance to learn where everything was. White smoke started coming out everywhere. I was trying to convince myself that this could be a normal thing, but when I could not see anything but the smoke surrounding me. I knew I had lost yet another.
Well, on the last day of sophomore year I had gotten another car, a 90′ Mazda 626. I loved this car. It was cute, it was clean and it worked. I loved driving it. I never named the car though I could never find the proper name so I just called it “The Mazda”. And it was my Mazda until February this past year when I got into a car accident and had $3,000 worth of damage. I went to court and fought for “The Mazda” but of course I lost. Then I tried to sell my hunk of junk and did to some slimy car guy. Who says a girl wearing braided pigtails can’t make a sale?
Once again careless and distraught I began to save my money yet again. Thinking that I was going to win my case, which is what should have happened I was going to take that money and put it down on a 96′ Honda Accord. Nope, never happened. Well one day I am talking to my grandmother on the phone and she tells me that she is selling her car for $500 to some one she works with and I said I would buy it and she said okay.
After getting my grandmother’s car, which she has kept in immaculate condition for 11 years, I was nervous about driving it due to my track record with vehicles. One day I went outside to go to work and my car was gone. Yes it was stolen. Can you believe it? Neither could I. My car was recovered to days later with a broken steering column, but it was fixable. So now I am driving my fourth car in two years and as much as I complained about Lily and “My Mazda” I miss them.
Well my 89′ Oldsmobile, with a soft top, is what I call “The Convertible”. Do I have a convertible? No. Do I like to pretend I do? Yes. Can’t a girl dream?