Ghetto Fabulous

Our cars seem determined to embarrass us. The car I drive has peeling black paint, one back door doesn't open from the inside, and the windows are tinted from the previous owner. We think it was a do-it-yourself-job and base that guess on all the visible air bubbles. I once got pulled over because of those tinted windows. The young deputy even called for backup, no doubt expecting a thug based on the car’s appearance. What he found instead was little ole me.

The “quirk” I find the most embarrassing is the loud noise the car makes when you turn the key in the driver’s door. You have to turn the key twice to unlock all the doors and the effect is a very loud “Wah Wan,” sound, similar to the noise on a cartoon when an anvil falls on some poor unsuspecting soul. This is especially embarrassing whenever we park downtown and there are people nearby eating or walking.

As if that was not enough. . . Now the inside door handle on the driver’s door is broken so I have been reduced to rolling down the window, reaching my arm out, opening the door from the outside, and then rolling the window back up. The alternative is climbing out the passenger’s door, which I resort to whenever I forget and turn off the car before rolling down the window. This happens more than I'd like to admit. Whenever I contort my body to go out the other door, I usually hear a little voice from the backseat saying, “That’s funny, Mommy.” Hilarious. 

So if appearance weren’t enough, and the “You’re Lame” noise, now it also takes forever just to get out of the car. I am thankful, though, that I have a car and also that I can never get too prideful because my car takes it upon itself to put me back in my place.