by Melissa R. Bickel

Created on: July 01, 2008   Last Updated: October 31, 2008

My first car was what I'd call a two footer. It required both feet working simultaneously to keep it running. You'd need to keep one foot on the break for red lights and stop signs; the other foot would be required to lightly give it gas to keep it from stopping at the most inconvenient moments.

Often times regardless of the two foot action, this pain in the backside would stall, leaving me stranded and praying to all the gods of the universe for my life to be spared any injuries inflicted because of it's stubborn refusal to run. Yes, my first car was "SPECIAL" and I mean that with all the sarcasm this mouth can utter.

Most people have affectionate names for their car, especially their first car. They loving tend to it as they would a prized possession. I have one now I call Bess, she's an old Lincoln who gets you from point A to point B very reliable, but my first car I called "STUPID!" Who cares that it was sporty looking and pale blue, it was a dud! What do you expect from a Pontiac right? Urm...no slight meant against all Pontiac's, but I was pushed to and beyond the meaning of proud ownership. There was no love for this four-wheeled, four cylinder machine. It was a pure hate relationship and that is why I feel "STUPID" behaved so badly.

My daily prayers to the universal gods began everyday like clockwork. I'd start driving down the street praying, "please don't let STUPID die in the middle of the intersection again. I don't feel like being smashed by homicidal road raged people today. Please, please, please." I think my nose hairs crossed for extra measure, as well as my eyes, and toes.

I swear the tried and true 'Shoe Lace Express' was better than STUPID! Walking did have that certain appeal on occasion, but getting across the city in time for work required the use of a car. I should have invested in a battery powered skateboard. Where was I, oh yeah don't think I hadn't given thought every second of the day to drowning this piece of no good for nothing metal in the depths of Davy Jones locker. Oh if only there'd been a river or lake near by! The mud puddles weren't deep enough to hide the body.

Well that was then and many years ago. I am proud to say I survived the experience as you can see. I now sit back and laugh a little, but only a little. It truly was a horrific experience. I'd like to think I grew wiser from first car ownership, especially when it comes to buying cars. I eventually succeeded in getting another vehicle, a Toyota, bright red and beautiful, her name was Lucy. Fierce like Lucille Ball.

Occasionally "STUPID" comes to mind and I say a little prayer that(IT)has became a rodents home for wayward rodents and evil creatures. Yes, forever lost to the endless gnawing of sharp teeth.

Hasta La Vista "STUPID"

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