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Yeah, it was fun at the start, driving about at speeds too fast, the wind in our hair. We looked good together. People honked and waved at us regularly when the relationship was new. Many of them were jealous that I had you and they didn't. Yeah, we logged a lot of miles and had some adventures.
Remember the time we passed that seemingly endless line of thirty two cars in a row on a two lane road? We just made it past the final car with only yards to spare before the road divided and we would have been soaring down the wrong side at 135. It made our hearts race at the time and gave us reason to laugh later on.
The first years were good. I could always count on you. But over time I began to realize that ours had become a high maintenance relationship. You just had to have the best of everything. When I took you out to a place that most people thought was decent, you'd complain about the service. Sometimes you'd even act out until I took you to a place you liked better. I swear one time you blew smoke you were so angry.
Maybe it was cruel I made you live in the garage for two years that one time. I felt like it was charitable. You had no other place to go and my wife certainly wasn't going to let another woman come inside the house. It was unfortunate that she decided to step on you while you slept that one time. I will never know why she thought that was acceptable. I know it left a wound which never healed and I'm sorry.
It wasn't long after that I started spending time with you again. As much as I wanted to rekindle the friendship we once had, it was never the same. Though I thought you were still a looker, people no longer turned their heads. I bought you nice things, you got dressed up. Maybe it was just me, but it felt like when we went out it was more like work than the play it once was. The relationship was lost to your ever escalating demands for more and more attention.
I tried to send you away. In a desperate plea for attention you spent all of your time with my niece. How long was that? A year? You finally showed your true colors though, letting her down and demanding much more than any sane friend would ever ask. Of course you came crawling, practically dragging yourself back to me.
I let you hang around my house for two years. You were literally falling apart. For the sake of the times we had I didn't complain. I didn't pay your bills though. Finally, a neighbor complained about the woman lurking in the driveway all hours of the night.
It was time for you to go. You were old. It was a mercy to put you down, to let you become a donor before all of your parts were completely rotted away.
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| Goodbye Old Friend. It was bittersweet watching you roll away on the back of a tow truck. |
Don't be sad. You know I wanted to keep you for my son, to turn you back into something that people would point out, honk and wave. But the crazy people in our neighborhood failed to see that you were still more beautiful than the rusted-out, broken-down pickup truck three houses away or the immobile Camaro with seven colors of primer and rust on the block behind us. They didn't see the promise of a roll cage and a race track. They didn't know that all you needed was a $800 clutch (and someone to install it).
But most importantly, they still don't know that I sold you for enough money to paint my house Denver Bronco's orange with the logo on the garage door. That should teach them to worry about the garbage in their yard instead of the worn out Porsche in someone else's driveway. That should teach them to go live somewhere with an HOA if they wanna complain.
Goodbye old friend. Rest well with the other old cars. I'm sure rabbits will come visit and from time to time someone will take a piece of you with them. Just don't let the yellow jackets build a nest in you and you will be fine.
OK, now that she's not listening, anyone interested in a nice set of 17-inch Mille Miglia C2 Cup wheels complete with a nearly new set of Fuzion HRI tires for their Porsche should drop me a line.
