Tuesday, September 9, 2008
When I was 14, one of my friends who was 16 would drive all of us girls around in her convertible. It was a cherry red Chrysler Le Baron. The car was as old as us and destined to fall apart at any given moment. You couldn't turn the engine off, unless you wanted it to stay off for at least an hour. But at 14, those things don't matter. The car was magic.
We would pass guys on the highway, and 9 times out of 10 we would hear them honking and whistling - Every 14-16 year old girl's dream. Boys were able to see how cool we were, hair blowing in the wind, singing along to the radio at the top of our lungs. Without the top down, we were just ordinary girls.
It is 10 years later, and I can't shake the desire to own a convertible. I have grown up and no longer want one to gain attention from silly boys (although a little flirting is always fun). I want to have that carefree feeling again. Wind in my hair, singing as if the other drivers are my audience. No longer seeing my vehicle solely as a means of transportation, but as an adventure in itself.