My First Car!
A 1993 Chrysler Le Baron convertible. That was my first car. The above picture, I believe is the only picture of me in that fine piece of machinery. This car humbled me in more ways than one.
It was kind of cute when my parents first got it for me. But it sat for a good year or two until I got over my fear of driving and actually went to get my license. I was convinced I wouldn't need the car or a license because I was just going to move to New York when I graduated and ride the taxi or subway.
I did eventually get my license because it got REAL old waiting for my mom to come and pick me up, or bumming rides from friends. The LeBaron was a good car for about 30 seconds, until I could no longer open the door's...that's right I said doorS, plural. Both doors went within weeks of each other. They were LITERALLY falling off the hinges, so I just left them closed out of fear of them amputating any limbs. Luckily, living in the south I could leave the top down or the windows open a lot of the time (which I had to do any way because the AC didn't work) leaving me no other choice than to live like the Dukes of Hazzard and hop in and out. This got real tricky when I wore dresses...but nothing that a simple chip clip couldn't fix. It was fine for me, but slightly embarrassing when I had to ask passengers to hop in and had to offer a chip clip to those wearing skirts.
To make matters a little more humbling( or exciting), it flooded when it rained. I still don't know how this happened, because I rolled the windows up and secured the top when it rained, which was much to my chagrin because I had no AC and had leather seats. I would sweat like a pig and stick to the seats like white on rice! Nevertheless, when it rained the floor of my car would fill with water, and I would have to roll my pants up to keep them from getting wet. At every stop light or whenever I stepped on the brakes, I braced myself for the great tsunami of water that would fly forward and slosh all about. Ridiculous.
When I thought my car couldn't get any worse, and it was on (what I thought was) it's last leg, the back windshield shattered. My dad, who is the king of jerry-rigging ANYTHING (like fixing a washing machine with a piece of gum, some yarn and a hanger) came up with the idea of duck taping a tarp to the back of it to keep rain or critters out...a New York Yankee's banner graced the back of my car until I could get it fixed. I did get quite a few looks on the road, but I still can't be sure if it was the banner, or if it was that my car would stall out at every.single.stop sign. or. light holding up traffic.
I grew to despise this car. My mom was convinced that it was fine and would continue running without any problems (apparently the above circumstances didn't constitute as problems) and I needed to get over it. I eventually got a new car, and it turns out that my mom was right. They gave the car to a family who needed one and I believe it may still be running "just fine" to this day.
I'm glad now that I got to experience a true "beater" as my first car. I also now believe that everyone should have a piece of garbage at least once in their life, it keeps things interesting and gives you something to laugh at later on down the road. My poor sister, Andie, is experiencing her hunk of junk now, and hopefully she can laugh at it later, because it is kind of funny that she has to carry a brick with her to keep her car from rolling.
Think back on your first car! I hope it's something that makes you smile, even if it made you cry at the time! Happy Friday, and as always, thanks for stopping by!