I never actually named my first car, officially. But when the topic came up (the two times that it did), I immediately thought of the name Daisy. So in honor of this week's topic, "Reviews", I'm going to tell my GBE2 friends about my first car.
I believe I was 18 when I started looking for one. I had a part-time job at the movie theater, the same one I met my husband at, and saved all my money like a desperate bandit. My dad gave me tips on what to look for as I scanned the classifieds. Low mileage, little to no rust, year, previous accidents, and whether it needed expensive work like new tires or a radiator. Together we found a promising looking ad and went downtown to check it out. A middle-aged man was selling his son's car. A '97 Chevy cavalier. Black. Two door. Tinted windows. "It is what it is," repeated the man 50 times while my Dad inspected every last inch of the car. It was awesome.
The AC fan was busted, so my dad talked him down a few hundred dollars. Even the heavy scent of Febreze pouring out of the windows couldn't mask the slightest hint of smoke hidden inside. So for $2,200 I bought my own car.
After trips to the DMV, and calling companies to get vehicle insurance quotes, we slapped on my first set of plates, and I got to drive it home. It was such a great feeling. I must have looked like the silliest, little punk alive, driving this sporty car around in a pink shirt and playing Kelly Clarkson on the radio. But let me tell you, that car lasted me a great many years. I was sad when I finally had to sell it. Being pregnant and all with Little Olive, the rusted brake-lines were not safe anymore.
Of course, I replaced it with another Cav - this time a four-door. You don't see many these days for sale...those Cavaliers. But I have only fond memories. I'm sure wherever Daisy is now, she's being taken care of and is happily driving around a carefree teenager...who of course is going the speed limit. (Obviously...)