My First Car

After months of pleading with my parents, I was finally allowed to get my very first car when I turned eighteen years old. My father, never the most generous of men, gave me $2000 and sent me to the nearest used car lot.

My enthusiasm soon turned to disappointment, however, as I walked around the car lot and looked at the prices. Never mind $2000, I couldn’t even find anything going for under $5000. Then, finally, in the furthermost corner of the lot, I saw it. Its paint job was scratched; its tires were flat and it had about 500,000 miles on it, but it was a thirty-five-year-old BMW for only $1999.

I drove that beaten-up old wreck until I graduated from college four years later. It broke down about once a week. Girls refused to get in it. It cost me a fortune in gasoline and repair bills. Despite all of that, I loved that vehicle. I guess everyone has a soft spot for their first car.