11 years ago (almost to the day), I had a 16th birthday dinner with my family. I had spent the greater part of the year leading up to my 16th birthday checking the classifieds daily and circling anything that looked like it might run, basically resigning myself to the fact that I would not be driving immediately. After dinner, my grandpa "Dot" told me to go outside for some reason that escapes me, only to reveal a teal something in the neighbors' drive way. There are only a handful of times I can remember crying out of happiness in my life, and even fewer times when I was completely surprised, and this was both. I was so completely overcome by the gesture and absolutely ecstatic. Then.... that car wouldn't reverse out of the driveway. Oops! Talk about highs and lows. To make a long story short, my rugged old grandpa got on the phone with the dealership and within minutes we somehow had the broken car gone and a more expensive, newer (and cuter) car. Voila!
OK, I realize I am telling the story of "How I Met My Car" like someone would tell the "How I Met My Spouse" story, but that thing has been quite a companion, and the source of countless stories. The "Escort Era" from 2001-2012 has seen me through High School, College, my first job, and getting married. I feel like everyone who has known me for anytime at all probably has at least one fond (or not so fond) memory of my car. Let me present the top ten "That time when" moments of the Escort Era.
10. That time when I windshield-wiped a cop.
On my way to Monahans, America one night a few years ago, I got pulled over for doing 70 in a 65 because it is night zone. My passenger was amazed by my ability to turn on the charm as I began playing the game we all do to get out of tickets. (I apparently turn into quite the Southern Belle.) Everything was going according to plan when the officer leaned on my windshield and shined his light onto my license, BUT THEN I moved a little too abruptly causing my windshield wipers to launch into full speed with a horrendous rubber on glass screech to accompany the washer fluid being sprayed into the air. The dummy in my passenger seat started basically guffawing and I struggled to maintain my composure. Luckily, that guy had a sense of humor and sent me on my way. Phew!
9. That time I deserved the ticket.
Packed to the brim with three grown boys and myself, we headed to Schlitterbaun the summer after my Freshman year of college. I was speeding, got pulled over, and to my dismay the officer was a woman who meant business. I gave some lame excuse -- I mean REALLY lame and stupid-- about how I was almost out of gas and needed to get to a gas station quicker. It was over before it started, honestly. I got my first ticket and an entire weekend of berating from my "friends." Was it really my fault that my car really liked going 89 instead of 65?
8. That time there was a great horn debacle.
A couple of years ago, my car wouldn't pass inspection because the horn went out. Long story short, my Dad rewired the horn to a "button horn" that was then screwed on top of the steering wheel. (It was a $4 vs. a $500 fix-- no brainer). From then on, we got a laugh out of every time that thing was needed. It had to charge up and then sounded like a toy. The most entertaining thing was watching the guys doing the subsequent inspections basically performing CPR on my steering wheel before I let them in on the secret. My horn was funnier than your horn.
7. That time a lady hit it when it was parked "because she was avoiding a cat."
In college, a note that read: Dear owner, I hit your car when I was avoiding a cat. Sorry. Here is my phone number.
Not only was she an animal lover, but she was also a liar. That scratch is still there.
6. That time my car stopped the van from it's destructive tear.
Notice I say the van, not someone driving the van. Summer of 2004 my Mom ran over herself with the van. You read that right. Basically, she got out of the car thinking it was in park when actually it was in reverse. The van then ran into her, knocking her down, and then OVER her, and then into my car that was parked in the street. Basically, my car kept the demolition to a minimum by stopping the madness. My mother ended up being fine (considering), and we began giving her a hard time about it after only a couple weeks.
5. That time I locked my keys in my car--- that happened more times than I like to admit. My favorite was probably the end of this school year when I searched the band hall tirelessly for a good 45 minutes at 8 o'clock at night, only to find them in the ignition. Good one.
4. That time I found out about the two towers.
I heard the news about 9/11 in my car driving to school. This is more significant than entertaining. Basically, I found out in my car that our world would never be the same.
3. That time I learned the word *hoopdie*
Cue student that looks remarkably like Urkel.
Kid: Miss, is that your little white hoopdie out there?
Me: I'm sorry... What?
Kid: Hoopdie-- it is ghetto slang for piece of trash.
Me: My car?
Kid: Yeah.. you need to UP DATE. Get you a Focus or somethin.
Me: Your face is a hoopdie.
2. That time there was a first kiss.
Yeah, I kissed the man who would turn out to be my husband for the first time sitting in front of another friend's house in my car. We had been friends and he went for it. I like to think my car gave him a little nudge to make the move. After all, my car and I had been through a few rough breakup drives and probably a few out loud conversations about "why isn't this working out how I think it should?" This is really number one, because that first (and second) kiss were the beginning of something totally awesome.
1. That time when you should always listen to your mother
Jacqui (my college roommate) and I were going on a trip. This was once we were grown up, with real jobs, all that jazz. My mom said, "Why don't you rent a car instead of putting the miles on yours?" I said, "That is silly, We'll be fine". My car said "DLJFUE{TWE" as it died on the highway between Midland and San Angelo. I have since translated that to , "Your mom says I told you so."
Jacqui and I threw the car in neutral and pushed it off the side of the highway while wearing sundresses and flip flops. We were stuck on the side of the highway for a good 4 hours, which was long enough to get an epic sunburn (Texas in July y'all). Many strangers stopped to help us to no avail. Eventually, my uncle was able to come tow us back to Midland (thank god for cell phones). Turned out to be something fixable, just not something fixable by any of the 10 passersby. I did get to ride in the back of a cop car-- so there's that.
The end of the Escort Era for me brings a whole new era of exciting new things. During the Era of "I don't own a car", I fully expect to have a whole new top ten list. For example, "That time I got lost in Santiago before I was very good at Spanish", "That time I couldn't get off the metro because it was too packed", "That time I realized I needed more comfortable shoes because I'm doing WAY more walking". I'll have new experiences along side that dude I mentioned in number 2 and on my own. My car will have all the experiences that go with belonging to a college-aged boy (yikes). We definitely had a good run, and it seems almost poetic that I said goodbye to that car my wonderful grandfather gave me on what would have been his birthday. Adios Escort!
