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April 26, 2004
What is a 745?
I drive a shitty car.
There, I said it. I drive a shitty car and I have a stupid emotional attachment to it. Every day, I hope to find the whole car missing so that the car being out of my life is not of my own doing, but nobody will steal it. Today, after surviving a mini infuerno while driving my homie lover friend (who I just discovered has a drawer of weapons that includes brass knuckles and a blackjack, whatever that is) to the knee doctor (hurt himself rollerskating while drunk), the emotional attachment is slowly but surely withering away.
So, fucking just recently, the car was just a tad better than shitty because Coral put a stereo in it for my birthday. I was kicking it old school with a cassette player for a long time and finally Coral decided to get me up to speed and even put in an iPod connection. So for a whole month, I was rolling down the street, windows down, feeling fly singing my Ruben Studdard songs, doing the eye roll and neck twist to all my Beyonce jams and even breaking off a little Jodeci on the freeway from time to time. They actually say “drownding” in one song and I live for that. It’s the little things in life that keep me going. Now, when I say “for a month” I mean simply that. A month after I got the birthday present of a century, my stereo was stolen. Stolen like it was a high end magazine in the doctor’s office. Just gone. I came out to the car, and I’ve never felt so violated in my life. The depression really set in when I discovered that these faceless lunatic thugs also took my mother fucking Hello Kitty CD holder. It’s a fuzzy face. How are you a true thug running up the street with HK furry face CD holder? Asshole. So, Ruben, Jay-Z, Beyonce, Postal Service, Jodeci, Anita Baker, Mariah Carey #1s, Thursday – all gone. Stereo gone. And don’t you know, I had nerve enough to have The Club which is also, sing it Justin, gooooooooone.
That’s what I get for hanging out with a fool I had no business hanging out with. I was at a housewarming party for this guy that I no longer date because he wears sunglasses inside and has a J. Lo style nickname. Great person. We’re so on the friendship tip though. Smart, funny, talented, really attractive but nope. We could have parted ways based on the fact that he wears Spiccoli shoes or is a self-involved Leo who “forgets” to call when he should be calling, but it was really the nickname that drove me away and I’ve told him all this but he doesn’t see what I’m saying at all. Ooh, the lipsmack tattoo on his left butt cheek is pretty insane as well. Appalling shit goes down in Hollywood, I swear on it. My dad says he thinks it was an “inside job”, meaning Cool Nickname had something to do with it. I highly doubt that theory, but it’s funny that my dad thinks everyone I know is a “fruit or nut” and he uses every bad thing that’s ever happened to me while living here as an opportunity to say, “I told your little ass stay right here in Valrico. Nobody told you to go live with all those fruits and nuts. And you see what happens? You get out to LA and all a sudden, you’re butt nekkid in a magazine and now your stereo gone. I’m proud of you and I understand you want to be halfway famous, but at what cost, baby? You gotta ask yourself. Mmmhmm…” First of all, as sad as it is, it is still just a stolen stereo. And secondly, I was never “butt nekkid” in any magazine, but like any good dad, my dad didn’t think so highly of me posing in a bikini for world consumption. Mercy seems to really like it though. Rumor has it she even showed the picture at a recent family funeral. Is it me or are all Filipino moms a little void in the tact department? And what’s halfway famous? I don’t think Shorty will have any VIP access to my Boom Boom Room once I get it up and running with that attitude.
Of course I’m very sad at the very notion that I could totally be a candidate for that show Pimp My Ride. Have you seen how my arms jiggle when I’m idle because the steering wheel is shaking its ass off? I do this thing whenever I start to feel sorry for myself. I make a list, in my head, of all the things I am happy for. Today, while fanning myself in the hell that is my car, my top 10 things to be thankful for were these:
1. Women can vote.
2. Black people can do whatever they want to do without getting hosed down by racist assholes. Civil rights are the bomb.
3. My hair is real and long as hell and I am especially thankful for this when I see a celebrity with visible weave tracks and beedeebees and all that.
4. Dave Chappelle is real.
5. I don’t have hammertoes like Omarosa does. It’s true. The next time you see a full-length picture of her, look at her feet that were clad in nude pantyhose and open toe rhinestone sandals when I saw the atrocious toes. Yes, I said pantyhose okay.
6. Babs went on a date with Juvenile.
7. One day Justin Timberlake will fall from grace and hit D-List status (maybe, probably never but still) and when he’s close to hitting rock bottom, I’ll be there for him happily ever after. Dreams can you get through mountains of adversity, you know. As a matter of fact, I don’t advocate violence against women but I love Justin so much he could bust me upside my head and hit me about the face and neck and I would bounce right back and be like, “Oh Justin, I don’t know why I treat you this way…” I just love him that much.
8. I once went on a date where the guy proved that chivalry is not dead. I’m talking open doors, compliments, only stuff I liked delivered to the table, no expectation of sex after he walked me to my front door, called the next day to see if I had gotten my flowers! Yeah, man, these dudes exist.
9. The first amendment is so great if you think about it. It’s the shit!
10. I don’t have to shave my legs every day.
When you start to think about the fact that “things could be worse”, lacking air conditioning is stupid easy to handle. Regardless, I think it’s time to just get on down to the dealership and get a new car. Back in the day, I used to have a small tinge of class consciousness. My mom never bought me Zips or anything, but I definitely felt ugly and poor sometimes. Why? I don’t know. There was always food on the table and the hand-me-downs weren’t so bad because I had always aspired to be exactly like my older sister anyway. Thankfully, I’ve gotten over this class consciousness bullshit so pulling up to some place that’s really ritzy in my car that still makes popping sounds while parked is not that big of a deal to me. It makes me laugh. But, ultimately, showing up with my beads of sweat to an important meeting or a lunch with a cutie from around the way – absolutely not acceptable. Sweating is a no go in my book. So, I will grab my most intimidating, smart, personable tall white male friend and head on over to the dealership. Did you ever see that Dateline expose? Crazy.
Will I miss that little Civic? Totally. I mean, when you’re caught jamming to Usher’s Yeah on someone else’s stereo as you sit, fanning yourself, at a red light, it’s time to move it along, right? I’ll miss having no car payment, but whatever, you only live once and you’re not coming back. I have to go. Jeopardy!, my favorite show ever, is starting and I usually kill the first round. Kill it. Aha, Who is John Stamos! Yesssssss.
Edited to add: Yes, I won that Saturn Ion on BOTS four score and seven years ago, but when I went to the dealership to see it, I didn't like the shape, the colors they offered and I didn't like that it was a Saturn from the jump. I prefer Japanese cars. I have brand loyalty with Honda. I have it with Tide, Coke, Pine Sol etc. Plus, I personally would feel weird driving around in my "prize car" so I just decided against taking the car. More power to those that do it, but I can't. Now, I am, in fact, still waiting for those Jonny Moseley skis I won. Waiting and waiting...
Posted by melissah at April 26, 2004 10:26 PM