It’s Official.

I’ve been searching for my first car, for about a year now.

It’s not that I don’t have money, because I do, I’m just extremely picky with my cars.

As everyone knows, I want a Firebird. No, I don’t want just a Firebird. I want a Trans Am.

But it didn’t start with a Trans Am. It started with a white 1977 Chevrolet Camaro.

My Mom, Deej (brother), and I had been headed to Denny’s; when from at least a mile away I saw it. Okay, so it wasn’t a mile away, but pretty close.

It was parked in someone driveway, and my heart quit beating when I saw the price along the windshield.

$3000

My budget: $0

We ate at Denny’s and discussed it’s beauty, so on the way back, we stopped and got the number. I practically had to beg my Dad to call the guy.

Of course, I didn’t get it. I don’t have any pics because it was dark when we found it.

Next up on our list! A ’68 Ford Galaxie 500!

My Grandma and I were going to Nashville and I saw it, and on our way home, I saw it again.

The next day, My Mom and I drove back to look at it. This was a piece of work. At one point, it had probably been a beautiful car, but it’s been 40 years.

The day after that we took my Dad to see it. This car was $2500. And my budget had raised to $1600.

The best part about this car, was that it had a hitch!

Did I get this car? No.

Now, on the same day that my Mom and I looked at the Galaxie we had our friends over. And one of them found a red Firebird for me. This is a confusing story because the ad said ’85, but the guy said ’87.

I have to admit, I got caught up in the moment. This was a fire hazard, it didn’t even run. But it was a Firebird and I was in love. The paint job was terrible, but I even kinda liked that. And the car was $800 that would have left me with $800 for repairs! Sounds like a great deal, right?

Not really. I still didn’t own a car.

My Grandpa came over one October day and said he had seen an ’87 TRANS AM over the rail road tracks at an upholstery place. I conned my other brother, Trevor, to drive me to find this baby. We pulled up to this little…shack. And there’s three muscle cars out front. An ’89 black Camaro, that was in great shape. An ’85 orange (primed?) Camaro, that was in ok shape. And a piece of crap rust colored ’87 Trans Am.

“I’m gonna guess the piece of crap is for sale.”

We went inside to talk to the guy and he said it was $2200, but also said that was too much.

The next day my Grandpa and Dad went to look at, popped the hood, BIG BLOCK!

Let me say it in the simplest way possible: my driveway was empty.

The days went by, and so did the months. It was a week after my birthday a friend called me, told me to get on Craigslist. ’84 Firebird for $1000. This made since. I had $2000 at that point. Mom, Grandpa, and I went to check it out.

No brakes, gray (had once been black) and needed all new doors. It had a V8 that stunk up the whole garage, dual exhaust that needed to be replaced, but there was something about it that called my name.

Was it the Firebird, or was it the moment?

Once again, I had nothing to drive.

The picture is just of the doghouse, because it was hard to take a full picture in the garage.

From that December 18 till March, I just racked in dough and hoped something would come along. I looked at different cars and just prayed one of them would be mine, each one sold before I could even look at it. I earned a job at K-Mart, and at the end of my first day; I called my parents to pick me up.

Where were they? Looking at an ’87 Silverado! Let me say, I was mad. Mostly because I assumed they were getting it for themselves. No. They were looking at it for me.

We went to T.G.I. Friday’s that night, and we had the discussion that caused me to sell my soul. Not really.

Dad and I would work out a deal to buy this $6500 beauty. I had reached $2500.  Mom let me leave school early the next day so I could go look at it. Grandpa drove it and it earned his approval. It also earned my heart.

Then the transmission of my Dad’s car went out and we had to buy a Fiesta. And the Silverado, I was head over heel’s for, sat in a dealership lot.

Just last week I looked at another truck, another ’87 Silverado. Sold, but not to me. I’ve called about El Caminos, begged for T.A.s, considered Grand Ams, dreamed of Barrett Jackson show cars, but I have never reached my goal yet.

April 7 marked the start of my journey, it was when I met that Camaro. I’ve made it my goal for a year now, on April 7, 2012, I’ll have enough money to buy that car. I do. There’s just one problem, it’s not my car.

I just gotta keep hoping, praying, dreaming, searching, and always working. And I won’t stop. Not till I own the one I love.

It’s not the show car I want, I’m not just some girl who wants to buy some “pimped out car.” It’s simple as this, you go to a car show, and there’s always that one guy is so proud of his car. There’s always someone that puts effort into fixing their car, turned their junkyard find into a classic. I want to be like that. I don’t want to put a 1999 Grand Am because it’s just a Grand Am. I want a rusted out car because I want to feel that excitement too.

Here’s some extra fun for you guys. These are just various pictures of me looking at cars!

Start your engines!

About 60sinseattle

I'm just trying to get by on Fashion, Music, and the lovely world of Anything Else.
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