I've never been one to talk about cars like they're people.
Yes, they're wonderfully useful, and yes, they're the real athletes of NASCAR, but no, I've never given one a name or referred to it using a personal pronoun.
Now, only now, do I see how blind and callous I've been.
You see, the elder of my younger sisters took my car with her when she went back to school today, an arrangement that she wrangled not by discussing the matter with me, or by requesting my permission, but, in an effort that would make the sneakiest, slimiest political operative blush, by pestering and wheedling my parents behind my back and over my head.
And now, without my having named it, or having assigned it an arbitrary gender, without my having properly treated it as the dear, dear friend it's been, my car is gone.
Gone.
Would you think less of me if I admitted that I had not one, but two separate nightmares last night in which it was intimately involved? Could I possibly care about your opinion now that I've lost my trusty companion, my faithful steed, my last bastion of personal space in this cloying, conniving world?
In a technical sense, I can't really complain. My parents are the ones who so generously purchased my dear friend in the first place, back when I was a penniless college graduate about to head to a driving-necessary law school. Plus, there is another car here now to -- forgive me for even dignifying the idea, friend -- take its place; a far fancier, faster car. Finally, the offer has been extended for me to reclaim what's been thieved from me at the end of the semester in May.
The thing is, technical senses only count with horseshoes and hand grenades. I don't want to be faster and fancier. I don't want to wait for the end of anybody's semester. I want my friend back right now. I don't want swap her -- yes, her -- back and forth like some sort of "open relationship" girlfriend.
If only I'd given her a name. Something sexy and 80's-y like Crystal or Desiree or Amber. Then I could have channeled all of my angsty rage into writing an awesome power ballad about the one that got away and I barely knew her name and I hope she's happy wherever she is and blah blah blah shredtacular guitar solo.
Instead, I'm stuck flipping through channel after useless channel trying to find just one that's showing some NASCAR.
13 comments:
Here's hoping you get your girl back earlier--like Spring Break. :) Then you can treat her like she deserves. You never know what you have 'til it's gone.
you could write a power ballad about how you don't know her name.
i'm carless, too. my rosie died about a week ago. about one week after i sunk $500 bucks into her in the hopes that it would tide me over til i found a new one. i'm thinking my next one will have a guy's name, in the hopes that it will be less tempermental than rosie was toward the end.
First I must admit your sister is quite talented if she could get your parents to agree to take your car. Coming from a family of four siblings the response I would have gotten?? "take it up with your brother" (I suppose my parents' approach was more "if you can survive your siblings, the reward was well earned". I am not familiar with the relationship between men and their cars so I cannot begin to understand the heartbreak, but did you really turn to NASCAR?? really?? NASCAR??
lcr
ps: may the next few months pass swiftly for your sake. :)
do you even fit into that thing? did acura invent some sort of marry poppinscoup?
Wow! The Drama!! THE DRAMA!!!
Seriously, I hope the two of you are reunited soon, before your head explodes, or you go up on the roof with a rifle and start shootin' (My favorite threat when I dont get my way!)
Krissy
The heart is a nice touch...too bad there's not a name in there.
As someone with younger siblings, I sympathize with your pain.
...er, empathize. Yeah, that's it.
What if somehow, some way your car was causing your back issues. I hope it's not the case, but hey silver lining right?
BK
I am sorry to hear about your loss. But I must say that you have validated my point for naming my car. People usually look at me weird when they find out I have named it.
Look at the bright side, you have this to hold over your sisters head for the rest of your lives.
I took my brothers 12 speed over to a friends house once without his permission and ended up "accidentally" ghost riding it into a swamp.
We never got it out, and I still hear about it to this day.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder. You never know what you have until it's gone. Time heals all wounds.
Really, I could go on with the clichés forever, but I know that doesn't help at all. I hope that the semester goes by quickly.
Also, I wouldn't tell your old car about the fancier, faster car. She might get jealous.
aa - I always treated her like she'd deserved, I just hadn't talked to her like she had.
lucy - The only Rosie I know is The Riveter, and I feel like that's just about the perfect image to associate with a car.
lcr - Talented isn't quite the adjective I'd pick.
Molly - I'm a normal sized person.
Krissy - I don't have a rifle. =/
Anonymous - Feel free to do both.
BK - Silver like my car. F.
Heidi A. - I'm glad it worked out for you.
Anonymous - "I took my brothers 12 speed. . .and ended up "accidentally" ghost riding it into a swamp." Top 10 sentences ever.
Roscoe Jenkins - My car laughs in the face of the other one.
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