To clear up any preconceived notions - I am not an ungrateful brat. I just like to find humor in everything. Because if you aren't laughing enough you aren't living enough.
I have to put the corresponding image for this post at the bottom of this post because if I leave it hanging at the top you guys won't read a word you will just look at the image and think, "holy shit that is wild looking!" and well you need the story too!
My dad and I have a problem, we like to change cars like we change socks...very often. If anyone knows anything about my dad they would know he is quite fond of cars. Mostly old cars, but he has been known to collect (yes collect) some newer cars too. Back in his hay day of car collecting he had rounded up 40+ cars. Chevelles, mustangs, roadrunners, so many that my brain just shuts down when I try to name all of the makes and models.
When I was 14 he figured it was time to teach me how to drive a stick shift (uuh, why? who knows). So there we were in our looooong driveway in a pristine black and gold Trans Am - Smokey and the Bandit style baby! And just to take the edge off of how damn cool we were I had a pool float under my ass so I could see where I was going.
My first car? Was not that smokin' Trans Am with the pretty gold eagle. When I got my learner's permit dad gave me something a teenie bit different. A 1989 (or maybe 1990?) Lincoln Mark 7...with big Rims, black out tinted windows, and a ghost flame paint job. It might as well have played the theme from the Godfather when you blew the horn. I was the biggest gangster in Canton. Buddies and I nicknamed that one the Stinkin Lincoln.That car was ridiculous. Until I saw my next car.
So, I get my driver's license and guess what the new vehicle is? It was actually new-ish. A flaming PT Cruiser. Let's not take the term "flaming" too lightly here. The flame paint job on this silly little car was literally more expensive than the car itself.
Looking back I realize why my dad did this to me - he wanted to know where I was and what I was doing .at.all.times.
Because when you live in a fairly small town and you are either related to or friends with the entire city- people talk.
I couldn't have even snuck around under the amazing foliage of the Amazon Rainforest in that damn car-which by the way is 1.3 million sq mi of dense forest. So driving my friends to a party or going shopping? Not happening without everyone seeing me and letting my parents know "I saw Stef in that PT Cruiser this weekend!" Well of course you did! you just saw 6 brilliant shades of colors flame painted enveloping a tiny ass car passing by! A blind man could have seen me!
Which also reminds me - just because a vehicle has a flame paint job does NOT mean it is fast. I swear to anything holy that EVERY single time I stopped at a red light some jack ass next to me would rev their engine. Dude, I am 16, and I am in a PT CRUISER. I can't exceed 50mph down hill in a wind storm so why are you trying to RACE ME!?!
This car became known as the "Loser Cruiser". I could also call it the clown car, or a hotwheels car because that is what the children would call it. Kids loved that car, I mean what kid wouldn't - it was more spectacular than a toy car. I recall a toddler balling his eyes out in a parking lot and as I drove by his face lit up like the fourth of July. The Loser Cruiser stopped the tears of babes. Nice.
And so there you have it, and to ice the cake here she is:
* Yes, dad even had a tag made for it with my name on it. You know, in case I ever accidentally parked next to another flaming pt cruiser I would be able to tell which one was mine.