A Cavalier Goodbye

My longest relationship, aside from those I’m immediately related to, hasn’t been with a woman or a friend (or even a man), it’s been with a vehicle.

My first few vehicles weren’t with me very long. My very first vehicle lasted about 3 months. I didn’t find out until after I had paid for it that it had been sitting for the better part of a year unused. Needless to say, many a leak sprang after I purchased it, and the transmission completely fried not long after. Luckily, there had been an issue with transferring the title, so when the county came after me because I abandoned “my” car, I was able to legitimately say, “Hey, that’s not mine. Go after this guy.” Serves the fucker right for not disclosing it had sat idle for so long until after I paid him for it.

My next car, a 1991 Ford Escort GT (which I loved) I had a couple of years until I found out I would be the proud (and frightened) father of twins. I quickly traded it in for a minivan, which the twins’ mother totaled a couple of years later. Later I would buy another minivan, which again would later be totaled by the twins’ mother, and I also hunted down another Escort GT, which got totaled by some assclown who ran a red light. I then, at the insistence of the twins’ mother, bought a Mustang, which promptly got traded in a year later because driving the Mustang in the rain and snow scared the shit out of her.

I traded that Mustang in for a 2005 Chevy Cavalier, and thus bloomed a beautiful 10-year relationship.

That Cavalier has pretty much been the most reliable thing in my life over the last 10 years. Through two divorces, financial hardships, severe bouts of depression, and several changes of address, that car has served me faithfully and diligently. It has taken me to places all over the country, from Michigan, to Georgia, and Pennsylvania.

My poor Cavalier after some douche turned down a street, decided he didn’t want to go that way, threw his car into reverse, and backed right into me after I turned in behind him.

Sadly the twins, as children tend to do, grew bigger. And then bigger. And then even bigger. In fact, I’m pretty sure the “little” ingrates are both a bit taller than me now (don’t worry, I can still take ’em). The Cavalier is a pretty compact car, so getting all four of us into it on a daily basis became a bit like solving the same puzzle over every morning.

I had initially planned on passing the Cavalier down to the twins, but under Kentucky law they can’t get their licenses for another year. Frankly, that little Cavalier wasn’t going to hold all four of us much longer at the rate the twins are growing, so I leased a new Malibu and decided to sell the Cavalier.

This morning, I sold my Cavalier, said goodbye, and cleaned it for the last time.

I know it’s just a car, but I’m not afraid to admit (yes I am, don’t listen to me – I don’t know what I’m talking about) that I’m saddened to see it go. I have many fond memories of that car, and I know she will serve her new owner well.

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Have you ever gotten attached to a car? Or some other non-sentient device? Tell me. I need to know I’m not alone.