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POTUS and Leo 2000: Get On The Bus
Seems I've reached that point in my financial career where it has become necessary to sell the Jetta. Had you asked me six months ago, I'd've said the scrappy little beast came in second to my crusty old Audi 200 Quattro, which died a coughing, sputtering death on Waverly Place in Greenwich Village in the middle of one balmy spring night seven years ago.
But now, faced with imminent separation, I've got no choice but to acknowledge what a solid little trooper the Jetta was, a good friend, a partner in crime.
I got the Jetta my last year in college, spring 1998. It was four years old then, scarcely 20k miles to its name. Black, no airconditioning, no glove compartment (how's that for a mystery?).
My college roommate and I took it across the country that summer. We took the southern route, all the way down through Austin, TX, did the trip in ten days and then I was an LA girl.
The Jetta took me to San Francisco in '00, with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fialka; we grabbed runpunkrun and did a whistle-stop POTUS and Leo tour up the Pacific Coast Highway, visiting midnight dinosaurs and driving through trees. We were as clever as a piece of toast. We made it all the way to Portland with only one flat tire. Fi and I drove back singing musicals; we swam in the reservoir when the black car got too hot.
Two years later, the Jetta and I drove back to New York, packed with all the things we'd brought over in '98.kormantic recorded fanfiction on tape for me to listen to. We took the middle route so we could stop in Kansas City and pick up wearemany at the airport, and she and I drove the rest of the way together and wrote "Fan Interference is a Stand-Up Double" in the baseball field in the middle of the night.
This past June, the Jetta and I packed up our old kit back and headed back for LA, this time via Chicago, where we met up withptpatricia and caravanned the rest of the way, through the Rockies and the Sierras, listening to our books on tape.
The AAA guy came this morning to change the most recent flat tire. I cleaned out the car for the last time, washed it with a dishtowel and dish soap. Breanna and Chris, the nice people who answered my craigslist ad, are coming over at six to give it a test drive, but they need to buy quick and I need to sell quick. I'm trying to call the DMV in NY to get a new copy of the title.
The Jetta's got a slow oil leak and a tendency to pop tires like chewing gum, but aside from that, it's a workhorse, a stallion even. I'm gonna cry to see it go. Damn good car, man, damn good car, and I'm gonna miss it like crazy.
But now, faced with imminent separation, I've got no choice but to acknowledge what a solid little trooper the Jetta was, a good friend, a partner in crime.
I got the Jetta my last year in college, spring 1998. It was four years old then, scarcely 20k miles to its name. Black, no airconditioning, no glove compartment (how's that for a mystery?).
My college roommate and I took it across the country that summer. We took the southern route, all the way down through Austin, TX, did the trip in ten days and then I was an LA girl.
The Jetta took me to San Francisco in '00, with
fialka; we grabbed runpunkrun and did a whistle-stop POTUS and Leo tour up the Pacific Coast Highway, visiting midnight dinosaurs and driving through trees. We were as clever as a piece of toast. We made it all the way to Portland with only one flat tire. Fi and I drove back singing musicals; we swam in the reservoir when the black car got too hot.Two years later, the Jetta and I drove back to New York, packed with all the things we'd brought over in '98.
kormantic recorded fanfiction on tape for me to listen to. We took the middle route so we could stop in Kansas City and pick up wearemany at the airport, and she and I drove the rest of the way together and wrote "Fan Interference is a Stand-Up Double" in the baseball field in the middle of the night.This past June, the Jetta and I packed up our old kit back and headed back for LA, this time via Chicago, where we met up with
ptpatricia and caravanned the rest of the way, through the Rockies and the Sierras, listening to our books on tape.The AAA guy came this morning to change the most recent flat tire. I cleaned out the car for the last time, washed it with a dishtowel and dish soap. Breanna and Chris, the nice people who answered my craigslist ad, are coming over at six to give it a test drive, but they need to buy quick and I need to sell quick. I'm trying to call the DMV in NY to get a new copy of the title.
The Jetta's got a slow oil leak and a tendency to pop tires like chewing gum, but aside from that, it's a workhorse, a stallion even. I'm gonna cry to see it go. Damn good car, man, damn good car, and I'm gonna miss it like crazy.
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When I was cleaning it out today, I found the little plastic goat that used to be glued to the dashboard, above the lowercase letters that said "go."
*sigh*
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I do. And he's still fan-fucking-tastic. Which is a fuck sandwich, so DD wouldn't like it.
I, on the other hand, am on hold with the DMV, and don't care much about what DD would like. *g*
Watch this space