A Little Bit Of Rust, A Whole Lot Of Love

I sold my first love for $1200, which is much more than he was probably worth.

His name was Dan, and I loved him more than I’ve loved any man in my life. Dan was a rusty 2010 Ford Escape, that was held together by duct tape and the trust of god. 

I worked and saved for my first car, but the thing about being 16 is you get caught up in the whole idea of a car and the excitement that comes with it, so the logistics of it all kind of get lost.

Basically, cars are expensive, and I was broke. 

My lack of understanding that adult purchases require adult money landed me on Facebook marketplace. That’s where I found him. My first car.

The moment I laid eyes on him, I knew he was mine. Within a week and $3000 later, I found myself in the DMV line, waiting for my number to be called so I could register him.

I’m not sure why the name Dan stuck out, but it did. Our first ride was glorious. He didn’t have the new car smell (mostly because he came with someone’s old vape and a cold, soggy three-year-old McDonald’s fry in the back seat), and his Bluetooth also didn’t really function, but he had a sunroof, which made up for it all. 

It wasn’t for a few months that I learned that when there was a storm outside, it would also rain in Dan. An unfortunate car wash trip revealed that his roof was filled with numerous holes. A few more months passed, his back window popped out. Dan was okay though because my friend’s dad fixed him with duct tape.

Every moment spent in Dan was worthwhile. He and I shared many firsts, lasts, hard moments, and amazing times. I got pulled over and written my first speeding ticket with Dan (we never drove over the speed limit again) and skipped school to go on random side quests so many times with one another. Cried, laughed, and sang so loud in each other’s presence. 

My senior year, I was on my way to Latin class when I got the call; he failed inspection. The mechanic said he could not let me in good conscious drive Dan. He blabbed all this car talk that I didn’t understand. What I did get was that his frame was rotted through, and his brakes were basically not a thing.

So, there I sat, with a half-dead Dan, a quarter cup of coffee, and zero will to live.

The following week, I made an appointment at a dealership. Dan refused to start in my school parking lot on the day of. I thought it was a sign that I shouldn’t get rid of him but turns out some kind of cable just snapped. I now had to stick a pencil in its shifting thing to put it in gear. 

I sold him for $1200 to the dealership, bought a rust-free Honda, and am now in intense debt to my mother. I guess you could say that’s a happy ending, but I don’t know if I feel that way. 

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