Own a car

“As I picked up my friends Christmas night, with “Wanna’ Be Startin’ Somethin’” blasting through Jackson’s carriage, I felt an indescribable and, in retrospect, irrational joy to own this car, which I’d long admired. My only previous driving experience had consisted of sharing the use of my mom’s old Volvo with my four siblings … so, to my mind, sole possession and exclusive use of a fifteen-year-old, hand-me-down SUV was the equivalent of top-of-the-line, new-release Ferrari ownership.”

“Disappointment. I was looking at my first car, my very own set of wheels. Rolling freedom, and all I could think was…this is it? [...] During the months of peace in between its many trips to the shop, the car was entertaining to drive, as long as one was going straight. You’d put your foot to the floor, hear the little four-banger tach up, wait for the poor transmission to catch up, and you launch forward with the front of the car raised up a couple of inches, front wheels scrambling for purchase the whole way. You’d be pressed into the awful cloth seats, and for just a few moments, that dire grey cabin became the controls for a spaceship at launch.”