The summer before my junior year of high school I worked two jobs.
I know you’re thinking *this girl is absolutely insane*, which is true, but I was on a mission. I was determined to purchase my first car.
Between working as a server at a pizzeria and working as a cashier at the Allegany State Park’s gift shops, I managed to save up a couple thousand dollars. Before the summer came to an end, I started looking for a car.
For me it was crucial to find a car before school started because as a junior in high school, I did not want to get caught riding the school bus. My immature mind convinced myself that riding the bus was for underclassmen and I was too old to ride the bus. Not only was I not willing to ride the bus, but I was ready to be responsible for getting myself to work, school, appointments and, quite frankly, I was tired of asking people for rides whenever I needed to go somewhere.
You’re probably wondering “When will we hear of this white wagon you mentioned in the title?”- well this is where it starts.
With the help of my boyfriend’s father, I began searching for a car. I was not looking for anything in particular, just something that started and drove. First, I looked at a periwinkle Volkswagen Beetle. The Beetle was the perfect shade of blue with two doors, had leather seats and was in great shape. On the downside it was a standard and I did not know how to drive stick.
Then we looked at a white Ford Fiesta. When we pulled into the driveway of the seller, I saw the car in their front yard and my first thought was “this is interesting”. In the driveway sat a little white car with four doors. At first glance, I noticed how unique this car was. It wasn’t unique in a “wow, look how nice” type of way, it was unique in the “who the heck would drive that thing?” type of way. The white car was covered in surface rust, had a HUGE dent on the passenger side that covered both the front and rear doors, had a broken rear-view mirror, a non-working radio and the list goes on.
Despite its appearance, I hopped in the car and took it for a test drive. The Fiesta started and drove well, meeting the only expectation I had while looking for a vehicle.
Immediately after getting back from the test drive, I knew this was the car I wanted. I handed the owner what he was asking for it and drove off with my first car.
In that moment I was so proud of myself. Not many people can say that they worked for and paid for their first car, but I did. Although it looked like a literal box on wheels- correction: a white wagon- I was proud of it. Even though I drove a rough looking and sounding car (which I should mention also smelled like cigarettes inside no matter how many times I cleaned it), my Ford Fiesta got me where I needed to go safely.
Driving the white wagon played a major role in my growth as a person. People may have judged my car for the way it looked or sounded, but I began to learn to not care about what others thought about my vehicle. They had no idea that I worked endless summer days to save up for my first car. They had no idea what was happening in my life that led me to desperately need a car. My fiesta gave me strength and taught me that success does not always look flattering or perfect.