No One Suspects The Minivan
My baby is sick. Luckily, I just received word that it's not life threatening and she's gonna pull through. My baby is, of course, my '99 Dodge Caravan. The "Service Engine Soon" light came on last night, the speedometer started to pull a Britney and freak the fuck out and I started to worry that my mini van may soon pass on to a better place. Life without my mini van? How would I move on? Well, thank the infant baby Jesus, but I don't have to move on…yet. Thankfully it was only some stupid little computer glitch and after having it fixed, I was assured they've seen vans like mine go over 200,000 miles. It is truly a miracle. In honor of my mini van's second chance at life, let's look back at all of the good times we've had together! Yay!
I didn't choose to drive a mini van - my mini van chose me. And by that, I mean my parents bought it when I was 15 and I didn't really have any other options. I wanted my own car, but they made me drive their van instead. I passed my driving test in that car and since then, have considered it my lucky charm.
Perhaps one of my favorite things about my mini van is the fact that I lost my virginity in the back seat. How disgusting/awesome/creepy is that? Few people can confidently say they drive around every day in the place they lost their virginity. For fear that my parents actually read this site, I will not tell you anything about who, where, when or why - just know that it happened and it never fails to crack me up. When people get into my car, I feel it very necessary to let them know they are sitting on my first sexual experience. They act totally grossed out, but no one has ever gotten out or switched seats yet. Know why? They secretly love it.
Another great thing about driving a mini van, which is kind of tied into the sex thing, is the fact that no one suspects it. They see a soccer mom mobile driving down the street and assume it's filled with a bunch of 10-year-olds. Little do they know, it's me riding around town with my friends being horrible. Back in high school we used to ride around looking for parking cones and then we would "cone" our other friends houses. Try doing that in a tiny little Jetta - you'll probably get a max of two or three cones in that car. Then try doing that with a sweet mini van - you'll have more cones than you know what to do with. Additionally, it's great because of the sliding door. When you do a drive-by to pick up the cones on the road, you just drive up to the cone slowly (without even stopping!), and slide the door open to collect your prize. Why do you think vans are the vehicle of choice for kidnappers, terrorists and child molesters?
The biggest trip I ever embarked on was all the way from the East Coast out to Los Angeles (and back), and you know what? My mini van was there every step of the way. I don't know how she did it, but that bitch carted Rasputin, myself and all of our shit across the country without overheating or crapping out. My favorite thing was cruising around Beverly Hills in my mini van…yeah, not out of place at all. Even better was driving up to the Bel-Air hotel for drinks and valet parking my exquisite, green chariot of love. However, my van did have one little mishap during its five-month run on the West Coast. Rasputin and I were just driving around and took a left turn onto some street when the window on my sliding door completely shattered and exploded. It was so sudden and so quick, we were convinced my van was the victim of a drive-by shooting or some hooligan throwing rocks on the side of the road. We looked all around and in the car and finally came to the conclusion that NOTHING shattered my window. It just spontaneously combusted. My car is a bad-ass bitch like that.
Finally and most regretfully, my car is a ticking time bomb. To quote Arnie from What's Eating Gilbert Grape, it "could go at any time." If it died tomorrow I would not be surprised…and if it lived for nine more years, it wouldn't faze me at all. All I know is that I am not trading in my van ever. I am going to drive it until it crumbles into a big pile of dust and someone has to pry my hands from the steering wheel. That being said, if you ever need a ride to soccer practice, feel free to give me a call. I'll give you one guess as to where you're gonna sit, though. Tee hee!
