I’m still crying since I found out yesterday. I can’t believe it. This car has meant so much to me. I would’ve killed one of my friends to prevent this car from being harmed. And what happens? Some old fucker runs me off the road, causes 5500 dollars worth of outer body damages and fucks up axles and all these mechanical parts and totals it out for me. We’re taking her. She will no longer have a license, car, family, or friend when we’re done with her. I want this woman to pay dearly for costing me something that played such an important role in my youth.

I saw it on the lot on the way home from school, in the little yellow bus. I wanted it then, and I got it later that week. Christened it at Metro Beach. How many people have lost their virginity in car? At least two I know of. The bodily fluids that were like abstract art on the back seats. As well as the front and passenger. The Lis gizzing late at night in Grosse Pointe. Leaving condoms filled with creamy white fruit drink in parking meters in such a swanky town, and in the seats at star bucks. Stealing lawn Mexicans. Stealing government property and then getting stuck with the evidence in the mud. Lunchtime blow jobs. From instantaneous sex with bad partners to better than sex makeout sessions with a certain Nazi Mexican. Sleeping naked in the back on the way home from Cedar Pointe. Random jaunts to the thumb and Ohio because I was bored. Small road trips with Joe-Joe. Racing friends off the freeway. That car meant something to me, and that bitch took it away. And I’m so sad right now. I can’t even see straight. I want it back. I don’t care if parts and labor are more than we spent on the car, I just want her back.