I will always remember the night my mom called me to tell me she had found my first car. She was staying in Florida, in my grandparents' winter home. My father, brother, and I were set to join her in a few weeks to celebrate Christmas. One of my grandparents' neighbors was selling a 1996 Sebring convertible. It was bright red and calling my name.
When we arrived in Florida two weeks later, I begged my mom to take me to see it. We drove around the community and there she was. We met the couple selling the car and took it for a test drive. I didn't have my license yet, so my mom had to drive. After we were out of sight from the sellers' house, my mom punched it. "I have to test it!" she shouted, soaring past the sign that said the speed limit was 20mph. We were going at least 65. That night, my parents bought the car for my Christmas present and when my grandparents came back up for the summer, they drove my car back.
I passed my road test in April and was incredibly impatient for my car to be here. Still, I had never been as excited as I was when my grandparents pulled into the driveway. The first place I drove by myself was to work, just like most of the minors at my job.
Months passed and I was super excited to drive to school. That was, I was excited to drive to school until parking spaces became extremely limited and I didn't get one, despite having a job, being on a sports team, and being a senior. (Thanks, Bay Path.) My girl scout leader was super kind, though, and let me park at her house, which just happened to be 500 feet from the driveway to my school. Usually, I could mooch a ride off someone to the top of the hill that my high school sits on, but walking wasn't as bad as riding the bus.
The first summer that I had Cindy Loo Hoo (aka my first car) was great. It felt so good to have the sunshine on my face while driving around wherever I wanted. The first winter wasn't so good. The ragtop roof had issues and often leaked when it snowed. To counter the water, I covered the back seat with cat litter. It smelled musty but at least the floor was dry. My father brought the car to a dealer to find out how much a new top would be. The man my dad talked to sold him some silicone and told him it was supposed to leak into the back of the car but that the holes used to drain the water were clogged. We unclogged the holes and I was back in business.
The spring and summer of 2015 were not good for Cindy Loo Hoo. It started when my dad noticed how low the oil was. He bought me four quarts of oil to replenish whenever needed. I went through them in a week. Somehow, my car passed inspection, but when I was going to leave, the engine started to smoke. I drove home, terrified that my car would burst into flames at any moment. Two weeks later, my dad took Cindy to the junk yard. I cried like a baby and made my boyfriend promise that she wasn't going to be turned into a metallic cube. (He lied.)
Cindy Loo Hoo, Sebring Convertible 1996-2015
