Sometimes, the grass isn’t always greener on the other side. Every day that I drove my old car, I dreamed that one day, I would own a car that didn’t make others on the road pity me.
I didn’t even name my old car, because I hated it so much. It was a 2000 Honda Accord. The outside door handle on the passenger side was missing. Every time my friends rode shotgun, they had to claw their way inside and almost always broke a nail. I swear, this car was trying to kill me. As I was driving one day, the entire front-seat, interior light box fell off the ceiling and hit me on the head. Not too long after, as I was trying to get out of the car, I ripped off the interior driver-side door handle. I just dropped it on the floor and went to class.
I don’t pride myself on being put together. I locked my keys in that car more times than I’d like to admit. If I wasn’t worried about people going through my phone, I’d have the locksmith on speed dial. So, as I drove this sad excuse of a car through the car wash to make it look presentable for sale, the soap and water flooded through the driver and passenger doors. Why? Apparently, the locksmiths bent the metal from breaking me in over and over again.
The back seat was no better than the front. There was bright orange Silly Putty crusted to the seat fabric. I don’t have children, nor do I play with Silly Putty. There was smelly milkshake spilled on the floor. To make matters worse, everything was covered with piles of junk and old makeup products. FYI, I have no idea why I had a golf club in the back seat. I don’t even golf. And, the radio was broken, so I couldn’t drown my car sorrows with sad music.
When my boyfriend decided we’d invest in a new car for Valentine’s Day, I was thrilled, to say the least. I daydreamed about stepping out of my chic ride in my cute outfit and everyone being so jealous of me.
The used car dealer gave us a choice. We could get a 2014 Honda Civic for the price of a 2013 Honda Civic, or we could get a 2013 Honda Civic for the price of a 2013 Honda Civic. One catch: the 2014 Honda Civic was a stick shift. Another catch: I can’t drive stick. Final catch: my boyfriend didn’t care.
So, he drove away from the dealership in a 2014 Honda Civic with a stick shift and an upset girlfriend in the passenger seat. He’s been trying to teach me to drive stick, but I still roll backwards on highway exit ramps and say, “This is the worst,” like a broken record. My road rage has soared through the roof. I get so nervous behind the wheel that my body temperature raises so much I must blast the air conditioning.
Even though my new car has Bluetooth radio, unchipped paint, working door handles, no holes and a clean interior, I hate driving now. As I am rolling backwards at red lights in my new car, people probably still pity me, just for another reason now.