Life is a highway

Sometime next week, my Baby (my car) will hit 100,000 miles. Right now it’s at 99,273, I think.

My Baby and I have been through a lot since I first brought her home that fateful Saturday in March of 2002. I say fateful because I bought that car just so I can drive down to Baltimore to see my boyfriend more often. Go figure, the following weekend, we broke up.

In four short years, we’ve travelled to DC, Baltimore, Boston, Philadelphia, upstate New York and parts uncharted in New Jersey. We’ve traversed the entire length and breadth of the New Jersey Turnpike, the Garden State Parkway, and just about every major highway in Jersey. We’ve crossed the George Washington Bridge, the Verrazanno Bridge,the Goethals Bridge, the Tappan Zee Bridge, the Lincoln Tunnel, the Holland Tunnel, and paid an arm and a leg each freakin’ time I crossed the freakin’ border into New York. I think we may have even made it as far as Long Island, but Lord knows I hate driving that far into New York, what with all the traffic and tolls and New Yorkers.

My Baby saw me through 3 boyfriends, and helped me get away from all of them. And before any of you even says it, my Baby’s backseat is too small for any shenanigans.

She has served me very well, I’ve had very few complaints, and I’ve only gotten into one minor accident. Of course, now that I’ve said that, I will get into a major accident next week or run into major mechanical problems with her, cause that’s also when the warranty on the car runs out.

On our way back from Boston, I was tempted to outrun a Connecticut state trooper or make up some cockamimmy story about some scumbag boyfriend breaking up with me and impregnating me in the process. I can always cry my way out of it, I said, but my Baby decided against it, and told me it was high-time Speedy Gonzalez paid their dues for speeding all the time.

We’ve explored so many beautiful places in Jersey together. It’s a shame that most people don’t get to appreciate the Garden State the way I do. Apart from the shores that Jersey is so infamous for, there are breathtaking farms out west in Jersey. My Baby and I used to travel 60 miles west to audit a non-profit organization for several days. Whenever we got the chance, we used to roam around the countryside and tried to count the cows and horsies we ran into. No, not literally of course. But man, there are a lot of cow crossings out there, you don’t ever want to get stuck behind a farmer and his cows.

Anyway, this landmark occasion makes me a bit emotional. Cause pretty soon, I know she’s going to start breaking down on me. I drive 300 miles a week just to get to and from the office. And most of you who know me well, know that I love road trips. I love being able to look at a map to chart out my next adventure and figure out where the nearest rest stops are, where the nearest White Castles are, and be able to map out alternate routes just to avoid traffic.

My Baby and I have done the whole Jersey drive-through of the Sopranos’ opening credits and it still bugs me that it’s so geographically incorrect. You can’t possibly start out from New York, through the Lincoln Tunnel, head south on the Turnpike, and suddenly find yourself 15 miles north in the Harrison/Jersey City/Kearny area and head northwest to where the actual Soprano house is. It’s just not possible. Unless of course, they did it to throw off fanatics like me. Well, I still figured it out, with the help of my buddy Bill, so *pbbbbfft* on all of you.

But I digress. If I keep this up, she won’t last me for very long after I’ve paid her off. They say my car’s a reliable sort of car, but I am putting way too many miles on her. Unless I find a place closer to the office, which is actually a big possibility next year. But then again, by next year, I could get so fed up at work that I just might move to Canada and move in with Grace and try to make a good woman out of her. (Or should I just give up now?).

I place way too much sentimental value on my stuff. Cause as practical as it may be for me to trade in my car for a brand spankin’ new one that won’t conk out on me, I know it’s going to be very tough for me to let my Baby go. You see, she is my first car. And you never forget your first.


~ by Binibining Beth on April 10, 2006.

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