My Old Black Car

All twenty-somethings have a car. If yours is anything like mine its nearing 100,000 + in mileage and starting to die.

We all have memories of the first car we ever drove. The memories that go along with that car, are often good ones. I recently made a new blogging friend! Read about her relationship with, “her old black car.”

There is a car in front of my house a car. The car is black. The black car is old. The old black car is mine and I love it. When I am driving my old black car I don’t feel like I am driving. I feel more like I am walking and the car is part of me. I feel like I am moving myself. My old black car and I have had good days and bad days. Sometimes, he fails me and sometimes I fail him but this doesn’t stop us from being happy.

The first time I failed was a couple of years ago when I had just started driving. I was in a narrow dead-end alley and I wanted to reverse which I did. Everything was going well until BOOM. I hit something. It turned out that something was a parked car which had been there for a long time. Apparently when you are reversing and your car doesn’t have a screen to show you the rear view you should look back or use the mirror to see what is behind your car. Somehow I thought looking straight was enough and that was “a stupid mistake” many people informed me. But I didn’t know. Otherwise, I would have looked. I would never want my old black car to get hurt. I have made many other mistakes too, but he has forgiven me.

Of course, I do the same for him too specially when the weather is cold. In cold days, like yesterday and the day before yesterday, I get into my old black car, greet him, tap him on his wheel, and turn its heater on. It normally takes a long time for the heater to stop being a fan and to be what its name says, a heater. I freeze in my old black car and wait for him to make me warm. But usually, by the time it gets warm I have reached my destination and I have to leave him which I don’t. Because I know he did his best for me and I have to appreciate that. Even if I have reached my work place or home I stay in my old black car for some minutes and let him make me warm and feel like he is doing something for me because I know that will make my old black car happy.

My old black car and I both make mistakes. I have hurt him and he has done the same to me. But we never mean any harm. When I hit that parked car he knew I was upset that he is hurt and when I am freezing, I know he is trying his best to warm me and that is all that matters. We have fights too like when I am in a rush and his engine asks for foreplay to start and with a seductive voice asks me to put my foot on his pedal and gently push it. I shout at him that this is not a good time and I am late for work and he cries and says that that I am not caring about his needs and we both become upset. But even then, if you say something bad about him I will very politely attach my boots to your bottom which I really don’t want to because Laredo boots are expensive. But, I will not let anyone insult him. My old black car is not perfect but he is mine and I love him.

If you liked this post please check out more like this on my friend’s blog here:


7 thoughts on “My Old Black Car

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