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If you follow me on Snapchat, which you probably don’t, you would have noticed that I have recently upgraded my whip of choice. For the last week, your boy has been cruising around in a super clean Infiniti Q50. Now, that’s just my loaner. My recent purchase is still getting worked on before pickup. Point is, I’m moving on from my vehicle of the past seven years. As welcome as this is in so many ways, the part of me that is constantly, depressingly, nostalgic is aching inside.
Since I’m choosing to sell private, I’ve had to sit down and write up a sales pitch for my old car. This course of action has really made me step back and evaluate the trials and tribulations I went through in this vehicle. One often reflects on the memories built up at a house or apartment, but when you think about the amount of time and miles you spend behind the wheel, the recollection of the phases of your life it accompanied you through come flooding back.
I drove my old car (a 2008 VW Jetta: The Offical Car of Hot Women) for 110,000 miles of grandpa driving fast and furious action on the road. That’s a long ass time sitting in a single seat. When I first put it in drive, I was a recent high school graduate looking forward to wild times and cheap beer. The last time I exit the car I’ll be a mid-20’s father who’s building a business, but still drinks cheap beer.
Obviously, she’s seen better days. But, it’s the thought of those better days that’ll make me a bit wistful when some dumbass sucker satisfied buyer drives her out of my sight for the last time. Sure, a car is a means to transport you from place to place, but, it is more than that, too. Your driver’s seat serves as a place of privacy and reflection.
One of my first monumental drives in the old Jetta was my initial five-hour trek to my freshman year of college. I can still remember gripping the wheel and excitedly pondering what was ahead of me; all the girls I’d meet (not many), how my baseball career would go (not great), and if the teammates I was about to meet would like me (most of them didn’t). That white shitbox of a car was with me through the most transformative years of my life.
If by some miracle I got to pitch in a home game, the conversation I’d have on the phone with my dad about how it went almost always occurred while sitting in my car at our field parking lot. Every time I found the time to make the trip two hours north to Texas Tech to experience a real college party scene for a weekend was made in that car; I’ll fondly remember constantly checking the odometer seeing how much of the 140-mile drive I had left.
Sitting in my driveway, now, with chipped paint, a crack in the windshield, and 150K+ on the odometer, she sure as hell doesn’t look like much, but she’s done everything I asked her to do. A little over three years ago I was flying down the highway at far faster than that car should ever be driven (take note if you’re thinking of buying it) to make sure I got to the hospital in time to see my son be born. The Jetta made a 25-minute drive take 15 minutes. I was #blessed to see my son be born thirteen hours later (I didn’t really get the concept of labor). Two days later, the first car my little dude ever rode in was that very same Jetta.
Every single thing, good or bad, that has come my way in the last 3/4 of a decade has been with that German-made monstrosity by my side. Hell, I treated her far worse than she treated me. All I repaid her for years of reliable rides was putting a set of heinous rims on her and rarely ever driving through a car wash.
And that in itself might be the most beautifully nostalgic thing about a longtime car. No matter what bullshit you’re getting yourself into, that thing is always along for the ride. I’ll fondly look back on my memories from the last seven years, and I will certainly remember the slightly shaky set of wheels I rode through the streets. .
I can relate to this story because I drove an ’06 Jetta for my entire college career and that Jetta was much a part of my college and young post grad life like yours was. I remember many road trips, back seat…wrestling with flings (they were not happy of the space) and speeding tickets in the Jetta. In 2015, I went in to a dealership to get a new car. I traded the Jetta (at 115K miles) to use as value for my current car. The same night, I remember grabbing last minute things from the side sills and coin tray as it was in the lot. Afterwards, I locked it and then turned around, looked at it one last time. With a smirk on my face, I whispered faintly, “We had fun. Good bye.” “Don’t You Forget About Me” by Simple Minds played in my head as I walked away.
Was heartbroken when I sold my ’95 Subaru Legacy for $250.
Bet you made those lesbians really happy though…
Seeing you in that car wouldn’t surprise me even a little
This hit home for me. 3 months ago, after 9 1/2 years of being together I totalled my first car. Just like you, so many memories and milestones. The last time I saw it, I cried.
Heard that. Did the same thing seeing my cherished Grand Cherokee – purchased on my birthday no less – was hauled away for an insulting $500 after getting totaled by a drunk driver but keeping me in one piece. Onward to Valhalla, old friend.
This brought a tear to my Eye… Thanks a lot, now I have to say allergies are bugging me at work.
Congrats on the sex!
This just gave me major anxiety about selling my Wrangler, now I feel like in need to keep it. Too many memories.
Don’t sell your wangler. I’ve sold two already.
Don’t do it man. I went from a TJ to a Grand Cherokee, and always felt like something was missing. My sister totaled that bitch, and I went back in a Wrangler. Then I remembered what I was missing. Grabbing gears and topless drives to the course.
I’d probably turn my old Cherokee into a truggy to compensate, so it wouldn’t be that much different other than the XJ is an auto.
I have a 94 Silverado that I learned how to drive on the farm at the age of 10 or so that I ended up driving as my first vehicle until High School graduation and then it was passed down to my brother as his first vehicle. He ended up blowing the motor racing a friend. Possibly the saddest day of my life, we couldn’t let it go and ended up replacing the motor (cost more than the truck is worth) and still use it as a woods vehicle today.
My truck of over seven years finally died on me about 3 months ago. Pretty much the saddest thing to happen to me. Too many memories in that piece of junk. Still shocked it sold for 1300 bucks.
Make/model?
Right in the feels. I just bought a 2017 Toyota Highlander a couple weeks ago and am privately going to sell my 2008 Ford Fusion I bought new when I was 18 stationed in TX. After 157,000 miles worth of memories, both good and bad, it’s gonna be tough to say goodbye, but I’m ready to move on
My wife also had a 2008 Jetta, until she creamed a deer in it 2 years ago. Still waiting for the insurance company to call and say “uhh, we gave you like $4k too much for that thing…”