more steve mcqueen than anything story by Rich Ferguson estimated reading time: 13:26
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First: don’t even think about asking to borrow either of your old man’s cars. Nope. Not the Blackwater-issued Ford Crown Victoria police cruiser, nor his off-duty Chevy Caprice. He doesn’t even trust you to polish the hubcaps on either one. Especially after that time you put a dent in his Caprice while whipping a Frisbee drunk on the front lawn at two in the morning. Next: don’t ask to borrow your mom’s car. All she’s got is her Mary Kay Cosmetics company car. The white-trimmed pink Caddy that looks like an enormous Hostess Snowball on wheels. What about the time you took it to that Friday night football game versus Toms River South? All your stoner buddies laughed you right off the high school campus. You ended up at home watching lame triple shots of Duran Duran and Pat Benatar on Friday Night Videos. Don’t make the same mistake twice. Last: no matter how hard up you get, don’t ask to borrow Jimmy’s car: the Ford Ranchero with the rusted-out floorboard. The last time you were in it the engine caught on fire. So did your Converse high tops. Drive that and you’ll do some serious damage to your date. She’ll get the wrong kind of hot and your evening will be toast. So that means you’re stuck taking your own car to your senior prom: the Chevy Vega. The one you bought when you turned seventeen. Seventeen: your year of extremist stupidity.