Vic And Me

I know I previously announced my acquisition of a new van but I don’t think I ever mentioned that the car I drive on a regular basis is my 96 Black Honda Civic. Because of my commute to work and back, this is the more efficient option for me. I can zip through all of the expressway traffic and construction (of which there is a lot) and park in those rare and tiny parking spaces. She’s a good little car and she has served me well. Plus she’s payed off which allowed me to afford the Queen Bee of vehicles, my Quest.
I’ve had Vic (as we affectionately refer to her) since 1996, shortly after Cristian was born and rarely has she given me troubles. She’s been a good girl.
But like anything else that’s aged…she’s been having some problems lately. These culminated the other day when I left on my lunch break. I had every intention of swinging through the drive thru for a Rudy’s BBQ Sandwich and I was determined.
Oh yes. I was determined.
Determined, even as I sputtered through every red light between here and there. Determined as the car shook and shuddered and lurched. Determined as the car SCREECHED and RATTLED and GROANED. Oh Rudy’s BBQ Sandwich…the things I made Vic do for you that day! But as I finally sat in the drive thru line, I knew…without a doubt…that Vic was in serious trouble.
I left Rudy’s and made it back to work minus my BBQ sandwiach but that seemed trivial in comparison to Vic’s health. We dropped her off yesterday for a tune-up and she will also need a fan motor replaced or I shall be completely without air conditioning. And being that I live in the Rio Grande Valley where temperatures are generally in the 100’s….and Vic is BLACK with no window tint…dangit, I need air con.
So tomorrow she’ll be dropped off for another refreshing spa visit, but in the meantime, I’m cruising the Quest and MY GOD AM I LOVING IT. I rarely drive her myself due to the fact that on the weekends, Roy usually takes the wheel.
So this morning, I jumped in the van and lo and behold, Cris had left his Green Day CD in progress. There I was. Driving a van. And jamming out to American Idiot. And why not? I am an American Idiot. I can’t even refute that. I may as well revel in it like a pig in mud.
I may be 30 years old. I may have 2 kids. I may sit at a desk all day and drink mug after mug of coffee. And maybe I do drive a VAN every once in a while, but I sort of like being me.
Finally.