Yah… It’s a piece of metal on wheels that goes fast. But it the definition of the fine line between what you CAN do and what you WANTED do. If I wanted to go do something… I just get in the car and do it. Not waiting for anyone, asking someones permission. It was my responsibility. It was my a miniature house on wheels… It was MINE, I could what ever I wanted to it, sit in it for hours, paint it, blast music. No one telling me what to do, or time limit, or guide lines. It was my rules.
I remember picking up Taco bells with some friends and a guy asking “can I eat in YOUR car?” I kinda froze, I had never thought about that… That that was my call finally… I could say “NO BITCH, I WANT MY CAR ALL SHINY AND SHIT!” (of course I let him eat though). It’s power, but control. It was something that I would “put the petal to the metal” at first but then learned that well I want to save gas and start driving like a grandma and even doing the hunch back for effect (seriously, I made myself laugh frequently doing it).
Yah, it was nice, it was short; and I now I am suspicious (joking) of what my driver test instructor said by “you’ll get over driving in about a month.” heh… Though I am disappointed in my family, they all said they had which I came to Thanks Giving party instead of driving down to Palm Springs, a few of them even prayed, and my crash was 5 minutes away from the party… My sister even said she secretly didn’t want to go to Africa and now since my dad is hurt maybe we wont. I don’t believe in prayers, though I will tonight just for the heck of it, but are they proud if they do believe in prayers? that THIS is what they wished for? I saved my own and my Dad’s life today. I’m not a cocky man, but if my dad was driving, we’d both be dead (but I’m sure if I knew really what to expect… I could sped up a lot faster). I’m lucky I got my youth on me and watch a lot of informational videos almost every waking moment of my life… learn to relax during a crash how to turn the steering wheel, and how to react in that kind of situation. Though my dad was crying, I was talking to the officers, got the license and the guys name, called the ambulance for him, and made sure everyone was okay. Got a little hurt, but nothing time won’t heal (as for love…).
They say you kind of grow to really love your first car… and I did. It was the best, and beautiful. It did it’s job, without complaining. It was a beautiful car… and I feel awful that this happened to it. It deserved a better life. It was MY piece of metal on wheels… and I’m really going to miss it… :/
…and I forever hate 16 wheel semi-truck… learn too drive. Take your time to sleep. Fucker. That was my car. Though I was very nice to him, told him yah know it’s a lot of hours driving, and this happens all the time because I didn’t want him to be scared as he seemed. I just hope he doesn’t lie to insurance, and fuck me over. But nice guys finish last, so he probably will.
Tribute to you… you’re the best. Really.
thank you for saving my life buddy. I love you long time. You mini German tank, held up better than I thought.
