I got a new car this last weekend. Well almost new. It’s a 2006 pontiac G6 from enterprise rent a car, meaning it was in their fleet for a year. It’s very nice, especially for someone who has never had a car less than ten years old. My parents bought it for me, I’ll admit that. Specifically, my father bought it. He wanted me to have something safer, more reliable than the convertible. He said I deserved better. We’re keeping the convertible, its stored in the back of the garage now. He told me that I can drive it in the summer again. But I know how things work, by the time he gets it out next summer it will probably be the end of august.
So here’s the part where I whine. I didn’t want a new car. I kept saying no, and only gave in when he said if I didn’t pick one he was going to buy me a hatchback. I was difficult through the whole thing, said I wanted a coupe, which enterprise doesn’t have in the g6. Things like that. This car is new and fancy. It never dies getting off the highway, the dash lights always work, the headlights never get stuck open. It tells me if my keys are in the door. It actually has a trunk. Turning on the air conditioning doesn’t cause problems with the fuel injection system. The brakes work perfectly, and it’s a six cylinder with enough pickup to beat most cars off of a light. It gets great gas mileage.
But I didn’t want a new car. I didn’t want to be practical, I didn’t want something reliable, where’s the excitement in that? The new car seems so much better, but it’s not my convertible. Sure the roof doesn’t leak, but it doesn’t go down either, when I want to drive late at night and see the stars. The new car doesn’t have to be convinced to go when you hit the gas. But its plain, it’s just like every other sedan on the road, it’s not me. I like being a little different, I love being the blonde in the convertible. I know we’ve been trying to fix the convertible for months now, figure out what’s wrong with the fuel injection, but why can’t we keep trying? This new car, it has never been to Minnesota, never broken down on the way there. I moved my pop tarts into it from the convertible, but it wasn’t there the morning I got the pop tarts. It doesn’t know what they stand for. And why don’t I get a say in this? I know it wasn’t my money that bought the convertible, nor was it my money that bought the new car, but why don’t I get to decide? I’m tired of people taking the choices away from me. Everyone keeps telling me I deserve a better car, but who said I wanted one?