Congratulations to my car and I, for our 10,000-mile anniversary. I’ve been a bit neglectful in acknowledging this milestone, since my little blue hatchback—for some reason, named Betty, but never referred to by name—hit 83,842, exactly 10,000 miles over her mark when I got the certificate of title in mid-August, on Sunday. We were somewhere around New Haven on I-91 N when it happened.
You may ask why my car and I have driven so much in less than seven months. The answer is that I drove her up from DC originally; went to help out a friend; went to college homecoming; went to work 3-7 times per week; and visited friends, and had visiting friends.
I owe my working relationship with this, my first and only car, to you-my-friends, the supervisor whose brother sold me the car for $20 (US), and most of all, my mechanic, who agrees with me: “She’s a good little car,” “She’ll last forever,” and “She’ll probably need new brakes at 90,000.”
May we live to drive 10,000 more.
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