Picture it, summer of '96. I had my first real adult job in a town 100 kilometers a way and I was tired of borrowing my mom's car. And she was tired of me borrowing it. I wanted to buy a car. I did a fair bit of research 'cause that's how I roll. No spontaneity here (at least then anyway). I knew that I wanted a used Toyota or Honda. Initially I had wanted a Lada or a Hyundai. I was actually leaning towards the Lada. I liked the shape and they were cheap. My peers were not impressed. In fact one guy from work said - and I am paraphrasing:
These cars are made by people who make about 6 cents an hour. Do you really think there is a whole lot of quality control. Do you think they actually give a s**t whether the steering wheel is actually connected to the tires?So after several friends rolled around laughing and crying, I quickly changed that idea. The laughter wasn't as loud regarding the Hyundai but same idea for that vehicle. And just a side note, they aren't laughing now. If I had bought a Hyundai in 2005, I wouldn't be in this situation and I would still have a reliable vehicle.
But I digress. So I went looking and I saw a 1993 black Toyota Corolla. And I fell in love. And then I got in it and the driver's seat hugged me so softly and invitingly. I was hooked. Unfortunately the salesman was in the passenger seat and I am sure he saw my expression when I touched the steering wheel for the first time. That car completed me and I knew at that moment if I left her get away I would regret it for the rest of my life.
That car represented the most successful relationship of my life thus far. It was flawless and together we were magic. I hand washed her every week. I vacuumed every crumb or grain of sand. And she never let me down. I didn't name her, but I know she was a she.
She carried lumber and bricks and snotty kids who left McDonald's french fries stuffed in her seats. Her butt was naked as her Toyota emblem was stolen early in our relationship. She had a very long scrape on her driver side where one of my drop-in kids parked her too close to a cement building while I was teaching him to drive. I felt the pain like my own flesh had been cut but she was just a car after all and the kid felt bad enough. She never complained and I did my best to keep her safe.
And then there was the summer of '99. I was working at the drop-in and the guy I worked with drove her back a day early because he had an appointment he couldn't miss. I still feel some guilt, we were up quite late arguing over something that he shared with me that day. In hindsight, he should have told me either before or after the trip but who was to know. Anyhow, He drove her because we needed the van to transport kids and camping gear. She he loaded her up with empty coolers etc. to ease the space issues in the van on the way back. He fell asleep somewhere along the way and when the road curved, he went straight. From the damage it looked like he flipped forward end over end and then landed on the passenger side. Luckily, he had his window open because he was feeling drowsy and wanted the air. IMPORTANT PUBLIC SERVICE MESSAGE: Don't drive while drowsy, it only takes a second with your eyes closed to drastically change your life. We were lucky, many are not.
He should have been killed. The only part of the car that was not damaged was the driver's compartment. The passenger side was pushed into the console. The rear seats were pushed to the front. The front engine compartment was pushed in. Not only was he not killed, he wasn't even injured. His chest was sore from the seat belt and he had a headache and a cut on his head when an empty cooler came flying forward and smacked him in the back of the head. He had some general aches and pains but he was basically untouched. My Corolla's last act was to protect my buddy from harm and as corny as it sounds I truly believe that. He told me the car stopped on the passenger side and he had to unbuckle himself and crawl out of the driver window. He then crawled to the shoulder and laid there until someone saw the wreckage and called emergency professionals.
I guess it was around a week later we went to the compound to pick up some items from the car, trunk etc. The car was so mangled, I couldn't get the car mats out of the backseat and the passenger side. We took pictures and hugged and cried. It was sad - because we knew what could and really what should have happened although we have never spoken the words out loud. It was sad - because my beloved car was in fact dead. But of course, it was more important to have my friend.
So, I needed a car. I kind of looked at it as serendipity. I had been eyeing up the Toyota Rav 4. I wasn't cheating on my Corolla but a girl is allowed to look right.
Next, the Rav chronicles.
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