Cars I Have Known... Part 3

I couldn't wait to get my drivers license when I turned 16... My parents however made it next to impossible for me to realize that dream as they enforced the 'Catch 22' of "You can't get your license until you can afford your own insurance and your own car." With the paycheck I brought home from the shoe store where I worked about 17 hrs. a week and the rent I payed to live in my own home, there was no way I could come up with the money... In fact it would be miraculous considering the fact that I had to pay for all of my own clothes, food (when I wasn't home for a family meal due to my work hours) and toiletries... With those kinds of boundries there's a very slim chance I'd be driving even today at the age of 42.

Enter my knight in shining armor... My guy (the foot holder) saw to it that I got my license right after I left home at the age of 18. That's when my first car became his car a '74 Camaro... It was maroon with a black top and the sweetest ride... Well, ANY ride is sweet when you've been under the impression that you'd never in your life be able to drive a car. Until I came along this car was my boyfriends 'Baby'... He loved his car. That's why I thought he was going to leave me forever the night I raked the passenger side door along the beam that supported the car port at his apartment complex!

I stood out in the car port for a good 15 minutes trying to figure out how I was going to tell him about the crushed door. I finally came to the realization that no matter how much I dreaded it, I had to face the music... I couldn't stand looking at that door all night... So I walked into the apartment and before I could get even two words out of my mouth I began sobbing. He got off the couch and hurried over and hugged me trying to discern exactly what I was trying to say about the car... Finally he said, "The important thing is, Are YOU all right?"... I had mistakenly given him the impression that I had been in an accident with another automobile... The glorious thing was that he was more worried about me than he was the car.

I'll admit, he wasn't exactly happy when he realized that I'd caused the damage by pulling into the parking space too wide... But it was an easy mistake because I was having to pull in next to this...


A 1971 Plymouth Fury... The biggest, baddest, mother out there! This was my guys 'other' car... Okay, it didn't have the light rack on the top but it WAS in fact a retired police car that my boyfriend/now husband picked up while he was in college. He had the Fury painted deep sparkling blue and had vanity plates for it that spelled out 'BLTHNDR'... This was an awesome vehicle but it was quite literally, the biggest car ever made... Obviously the apartment complex car ports weren't designed for two large vehicles... Especially one which had the girth of a cruise ship. SURE, my boyfriend didn't have any trouble parking both cars in their tiny little berth but I was still rather inexperienced when it came to parking and heck, truth is... It's rather unladylike to exit a low slung vehicle like the Camaro whilst pinned up against a behemouth like the Fury with only a mere 6 inches with which to extricate myself.

So yes... I christened the car with its first large dent... a few weeks later my guy begrudgingly took me to a 'Homecoming Football Game' at my high school and after the game we returned to the Camaro to find that someone had sideswiped the drivers side door... He was much more upset at that incident than the one I caused... But all I could think was, now both sides matched... All my boyfriend/now husband could think was... "I guess my days of having nice looking vehicles are over."