My car's been in the shop for the past two days (brakes, tires) so unfortunately, I've had to drive my mother-in-law's Mustang Convertible to work. This is an older car, a '92 I think, with only about 75,000 miles on it because Claudia doesn't drive much. She's mentioned that they're going to give this car to Mallory when she gets her driver's license.
I have to say, I think this car is way too fun for a teenage girl. (And also, my hair is a fright from riding with the top down.)
Then again, I drove a "classic" Mustang when I was in high school -- a '75, the only year Ford made an ugly Mustang, according to my dad. I believe Aimee drove this car too. It had been rebuilt by my granddad and he gave it to me because I proved unable to drive the classic car that my dad had rebuilt for me, a '65 Corvair. The Corvair was very cute, I liked it a lot, but it was a stick shift and I never quite got the hang of it. Plus the gas gauge didn't work and although you'd think I would be smart enough to just fill it up every week or so, well, I never was that smart so I kept running out of gas.
Anyway, my Mustang was a pretty fun little car and never gave me any trouble. Until the day I was driving to school after a piano lesson and suddenly the brakes stopped working entirely. And here's further proof that I wasn't very smart -- I drove for several blocks, all the way to school, after realizing the brakes didn't work. I'm not sure what I was thinking. Perhaps I was in panic mode and not thinking of all. I just steered and coasted and prayed and finally bumped to a stop by the curb in front of the school. Then I went inside and found my boyfriend and he said, "You're white as a sheet. What's wrong?" I said, "My brakes went out! I couldn't stop the car!" and he said, "So you used the emergency brake, right?"
"....Oh."
Considering, though, the lack of traffic and perfectly flat streets in my hometown, driving without brakes wasn't really all that dangerous. Here's the story of a time I really could have died while driving. Summer, 1991, my first year of college over with, I was driving back to San Antonio after spending a week at home. I was about to start a job as a camp counselor and it would end up being the worst summer of my life, but that's another story. I had just gotten into San Antonio proper, on, what's the name of the highway, I-10, I think. It was almost rush hour and traffic was really heavy. And suddenly my eyes started to burn and tear and itch like mad. I could barely keep them open and I couldn't see at all. Somehow I managed to cross three lanes of traffic, squinting and crying, and get off the highway and into the parking lot of a Wendy's, where I ran in and washed my face. Okay, now that I've written it down it doesn't sound all that dramatic but it was quite terrifying at the time. (By the way, I think it was a mascara allergy -- it still happens occasionally, although it's never happened again whilst driving.)
Drive safely this weekend!
I have to say, I think this car is way too fun for a teenage girl. (And also, my hair is a fright from riding with the top down.)
Then again, I drove a "classic" Mustang when I was in high school -- a '75, the only year Ford made an ugly Mustang, according to my dad. I believe Aimee drove this car too. It had been rebuilt by my granddad and he gave it to me because I proved unable to drive the classic car that my dad had rebuilt for me, a '65 Corvair. The Corvair was very cute, I liked it a lot, but it was a stick shift and I never quite got the hang of it. Plus the gas gauge didn't work and although you'd think I would be smart enough to just fill it up every week or so, well, I never was that smart so I kept running out of gas.
Anyway, my Mustang was a pretty fun little car and never gave me any trouble. Until the day I was driving to school after a piano lesson and suddenly the brakes stopped working entirely. And here's further proof that I wasn't very smart -- I drove for several blocks, all the way to school, after realizing the brakes didn't work. I'm not sure what I was thinking. Perhaps I was in panic mode and not thinking of all. I just steered and coasted and prayed and finally bumped to a stop by the curb in front of the school. Then I went inside and found my boyfriend and he said, "You're white as a sheet. What's wrong?" I said, "My brakes went out! I couldn't stop the car!" and he said, "So you used the emergency brake, right?"
"....Oh."
Considering, though, the lack of traffic and perfectly flat streets in my hometown, driving without brakes wasn't really all that dangerous. Here's the story of a time I really could have died while driving. Summer, 1991, my first year of college over with, I was driving back to San Antonio after spending a week at home. I was about to start a job as a camp counselor and it would end up being the worst summer of my life, but that's another story. I had just gotten into San Antonio proper, on, what's the name of the highway, I-10, I think. It was almost rush hour and traffic was really heavy. And suddenly my eyes started to burn and tear and itch like mad. I could barely keep them open and I couldn't see at all. Somehow I managed to cross three lanes of traffic, squinting and crying, and get off the highway and into the parking lot of a Wendy's, where I ran in and washed my face. Okay, now that I've written it down it doesn't sound all that dramatic but it was quite terrifying at the time. (By the way, I think it was a mascara allergy -- it still happens occasionally, although it's never happened again whilst driving.)
Drive safely this weekend!
Comments
Huh. What a difference having cell phones makes!