Teenage drivers often get either their parent’s old car, or they find one themselves. For me, it was my grandmother’s car. And then it was my older sisters before it was mine. My dad got lucky that by the time my sister started to drive, my grandmother was a little too old to drive. I believe she was around 90 years old. It's a cute little 1999 white Chevrolet Malibu....such a girl car. When it was my turn to drive the car, it only had 45,000 miles on it. That was nothing for a car that was 15 years old. Syl, as I car my precious car after my grandmother Sylvia, who had passed away shortly after I got my licence, is turning 17 this summer. You are only two years younger than me, but I think you are a lot older in car years. We have gone through good times and not so great times, but I will never forget you when you finally go.
Syl, you have a small tank, as I have to get gas every 200 miles. And you can really only go around 70 miles per hour on the turnpike. That is not a bad thing, but when cars are up my butt, I can't do much about it. Also, when a light turns green at a street light, you take your good ol' time to get back up to speed.The radio shows either the time or the radio station, but not at the same time. The front too seats may be ripped, but that means that you have been driven a good amount. You're right mirror doesn't really work anymore. You are a simple car, and I wouldn't want anything else. I have driven my dad's newer model cars, and I think they are harder to understand than you.
Remember that one time where we turned into the school parking lot, and you broke down right at the stop sign? I sure do. It was 7:40 a.m. and around 14 degrees outside in the middle of January. I knew you were going to do it. You had been giving me weird signs on the dashboard along with odd noises when you turned on, but dad was sure you were going to be okay. I was surprised you even turned on that morning. You made me late to school and I had to keep waving all of the cars and buses to go around, because I couldn't put the hazard flashers on, that's how dead you were.
After that, your battery died at College just this past September. I had to jump you a few times. I was sure that this was it for you and I. But nope, dad took you home and got a new battery, and you worked again. You are a lot to handle in the cold weather months. I have to turn you on everyday just to make sure you still work. Every time I put the key in the ignition, I sometimes think you aren't going to turn on.
Besides all of the chaos you have and will put me through, you are the best first car someone could have. You are small enough to fit into tight parking spaces, and most of the time you have gotten me where I needed to be. I named you after my grandmother, and it fits you perfectly. I'm pretty sure nobody else calls their car Syl. I hope you can at least make it to 20, because I am not ready to give you up just yet. You are special to me, and I will cry the day you finally go for good. I will remember all of the places I drove you, and shut down. Thank you for being my first car.
