Today marks the one-year anniversary of my getting a driver's license. And what better way to spend it than with a spin in my new car?
I'm too busy for that, unfortunately. But it would be a good idea.
Yes, I finally have my own car. For those of you who are into cars, it's a 2016 Toyota Corolla. For the rest of us, it's red. I've never been into cars. I like exploring them, looking for features like electrical outlets and hidden storage, but when people start talking about powertrains and cylinders and stuff like that, I tune out.
My car is pretty cool. She has heated seats and a sunroof, and she gets good gas mileage. And she's red. My family has a "thing" for red cars--my parents' minivan is red, and so is my grandparents' SUV. When my dad got a pickup last year, he was tempted to get a red one but ended up going with silver. I'm glad.
I suppose my being an introvert has a lot to do with my feelings towards cars. A car means you're going somewhere. Going somewhere means trading my cozy bedroom, unlimited snacks, and laptop for social skills and adult responsibilities. Like work. And shopping. I went to Walmart on Tuesday and forgot to use the $2-off coupon that was attached to my mascara, but that's a story for another day. Besides, a car is just a thing that will stop working someday, or else I'll trade it in when I need more than one car seat in the back.
I was comfortable using Mom's minivan for the longest time. Heck, I still am. But it gets frustrating when I'm eating dinner at 4:30 in preparation for my 5:00 shift at Domino's and Mom still isn't back from Aldi with the groceries. I start to worry. Will Mom be back in time? Will I be late? Finally, at 4:38, Mom pulls in the driveway. We toss the groceries onto the kitchen island, and I dash off to work at a quarter to 5, praying I don't hit any red lights.
I don't have to worry about that anymore. Neither do I have to pay $20 for a half tank of gas that might last two weeks, if we're lucky. Nope! My car gets nearly twice the gas mileage of our minivan, especially if Mom drives. Dad says she drives like a racecar driver.
I've started calling my car "The Charlotte." My dad and I both love National Treasure, and The Charlotte is the ship that holds the secret to finding the Templar Treasure. I realized, seconds after deciding on the name, that The Charlotte exploded. But it wasn't her fault. When someone drops an emergency flare in a wooden boat that just so happens to be filled with gunpowder, an explosion is bound to happen. I'll just make sure to keep my Charlotte away from emergency flares. And gunpowder. And Ian Howe.
What was your first car like? More importantly, what color was it? Let me know in the comments below! God bless you, dear readers, and don't forget to Like us on Facebook!
M. J. Piazza is a Jesus-loving, dog-walking country girl who just so happens to write books.