At the end of the Summer, 2000, I was in Washington D.C. I had just performed my last show for Drum Corps World Championship Finals and was preparing to head back home. At the time, I was dating a guy named Chris, or Doctor Johnson, as my friends used to call him.
That night, 3 of the 4 buses in the Blue Knights caravan headed back to Denver. One went to the airport with a load of people and then back to Colorado as well. Looking back, I cannot remember what possessed us to get on the bus to the airport. We had exactly $20 between us and no chance of buying an airline ticket to anywhere. What we did have was a sense of adventure.
Once we arrived at the airport we somehow managed to con our way in to a Greyhound bus ticket from Washington D.C. to Victoria, Texas. It was a 39 hour trip to the city, which is located in the very Southern end of Texas, on the coast.
We came to Victoria with nothing except a couple duffle bags filled with shorts, tank tops, about 20 bikinis, ratty tennis shoes and two sleeping bags, all that we had left from our season of marching. We lived for a short time with Chris’s moms, his biological mother and her long-time lesbian partner.
Once we arrived at the airport we somehow managed to con our way in to a Greyhound bus ticket from Washington D.C. to Victoria, Texas. It was a 39 hour trip to the city, which is located in the very Southern end of Texas, on the coast.
We came to Victoria with nothing except a couple duffle bags filled with shorts, tank tops, about 20 bikinis, ratty tennis shoes and two sleeping bags, all that we had left from our season of marching. We lived for a short time with Chris’s moms, his biological mother and her long-time lesbian partner.
During that time we both worked at Denny’s. I worked the early bird shift and Chris worked grave. We saved the money we made so we could eventually find our own place and our own car.
One afternoon, I was watching some bad daytime TV when I saw and ad for a new dealership in town which offered in-house financing on cheap used cars. Having no credit to speak of, and very little money, I immediately called the number. I told them I only had $600 to put down and that I was looking for something reliable just to get me to and from work. The man on the phone invited us to the dealership, so we decided to meet him the next day.
We were only shown one car that we were qualified to purchase. It was a 1995 Ford Taurus, light blue. While it had a relatively high number of miles, it was in fairly good condition (or so I naively thought) and it was our only option at the time. We immediately agreed and signed the finance agreement.
For a while, all was grand! We finally had a car, we moved into our own apartment shortly thereafter, we both landed jobs at a new Italian restaurant, everything was working out well.
One afternoon, I was watching some bad daytime TV when I saw and ad for a new dealership in town which offered in-house financing on cheap used cars. Having no credit to speak of, and very little money, I immediately called the number. I told them I only had $600 to put down and that I was looking for something reliable just to get me to and from work. The man on the phone invited us to the dealership, so we decided to meet him the next day.
We were only shown one car that we were qualified to purchase. It was a 1995 Ford Taurus, light blue. While it had a relatively high number of miles, it was in fairly good condition (or so I naively thought) and it was our only option at the time. We immediately agreed and signed the finance agreement.
For a while, all was grand! We finally had a car, we moved into our own apartment shortly thereafter, we both landed jobs at a new Italian restaurant, everything was working out well.
One evening while Chris and I were headed out to eat, I noticed that the car seemed to be getting fantastic gas mileage. After we had filled up on our first day, the gage gradually went down and had seemed to hover at a quarter of a tank for quite some time.
“Lucky us!” I thought stupidly.
As if the car understood my stupidity, it started to spit and sputter through a busy intersection in town. I realized, only after 15 seconds of panic, that the car had run out of gas. The gage was already broken! Chris, in his amazing respect for my feelings, told me to get out and push and he would steer us to safety. While I cussed him for being a jerk as I pushed the car in to a parking lot, I also realized that I was probably far more capable of doing so than he was any way.
Shortly before we stopped, some good samaritans came to help me push the rest of the way. We explained to them that we just realized the gas gage was broken. What a fun way to find out!
The man, a husky figure in a Dallas Cowboys t-shirt, laughed and said to his equally husky wife,
“The dealership is brand new in town and already selling lemons.”
“Please don’t say that,” I thought.
What I did not want to think about was the very likely possibility that we had been swindled.
Chris, making up a bit for his lack of chivalry before, had gone to get a can of gas while I made small talk. Once refueled I said thank you to the samaritans and we were on our way.
The next couple weeks went without incident other than the fact that we had to make educated guesses on whether or not we had enough gas. Then things started to happen.
“Lucky us!” I thought stupidly.
As if the car understood my stupidity, it started to spit and sputter through a busy intersection in town. I realized, only after 15 seconds of panic, that the car had run out of gas. The gage was already broken! Chris, in his amazing respect for my feelings, told me to get out and push and he would steer us to safety. While I cussed him for being a jerk as I pushed the car in to a parking lot, I also realized that I was probably far more capable of doing so than he was any way.
Shortly before we stopped, some good samaritans came to help me push the rest of the way. We explained to them that we just realized the gas gage was broken. What a fun way to find out!
The man, a husky figure in a Dallas Cowboys t-shirt, laughed and said to his equally husky wife,
“The dealership is brand new in town and already selling lemons.”
“Please don’t say that,” I thought.
What I did not want to think about was the very likely possibility that we had been swindled.
Chris, making up a bit for his lack of chivalry before, had gone to get a can of gas while I made small talk. Once refueled I said thank you to the samaritans and we were on our way.
The next couple weeks went without incident other than the fact that we had to make educated guesses on whether or not we had enough gas. Then things started to happen.
We popped two tires, which were sorely worn to begin with. One of the two motor mounts not only cracked, it broke clean in two. (For those who don’t know, a motor mount holds the entire engine in the chasse of the car.) It created this horrible banging sound every time we went over a bump. We asked a friend, who moonlighted as a mechanic, to fix it. He let it sit in his garage for 3 weeks before he cared to do anything about it, even though we had purchased the part and agreed to pay him for the labor.
After finally receiving the car back, we replaced belts, rotors, the alternator (which I completed myself), the air filter and the entire brake system, shoes, pads, everything.
“You know, Chris,” I said one day, “I know it is just temporary, but I am starting to think it might be fun to push the car over the edge of a ravine.”
He laughed, but said nothing. Very typical.
We lived a fun, and sometimes crazy life in Victoria for two years, all the while driving the same damn car. I drove it in to the ground. We went to Dallas and back several times, to Waxahatchie for work, Corpus Christy, Austin, San Antonio and Houston. I doubled the miles on the car in less than 2 years.
It then came time for us to leave Victoria. We rented a U-Haul for all of the furniture and miscellaneous belongings we had accumulated during our time in Texas, and hitched the Taurus to the back.
I drove us from Victoria to Denver. When I say “I,” I mean it. Chris slept most of the way. Again, very chivalrous of him.
“You know, Chris,” I said one day, “I know it is just temporary, but I am starting to think it might be fun to push the car over the edge of a ravine.”
He laughed, but said nothing. Very typical.
We lived a fun, and sometimes crazy life in Victoria for two years, all the while driving the same damn car. I drove it in to the ground. We went to Dallas and back several times, to Waxahatchie for work, Corpus Christy, Austin, San Antonio and Houston. I doubled the miles on the car in less than 2 years.
It then came time for us to leave Victoria. We rented a U-Haul for all of the furniture and miscellaneous belongings we had accumulated during our time in Texas, and hitched the Taurus to the back.
I drove us from Victoria to Denver. When I say “I,” I mean it. Chris slept most of the way. Again, very chivalrous of him.
I put up with driving through Oklahoma on HWY 35 which was, at the time, under construction for about a zillion miles. This meant one lane, blocked on each side by cement barricades. To make matters even more fun, there was a torrential downpour and I was driving at night, with no exit to be found. Fuck Oklahoma.
Chris finally offered to drive once we had reached the western border of Kansas.
“That would be great!” I said, sarcastically. “I don’t think I can make it the last 4 hours!”
He didn’t seem to notice my sarcasm. Perhaps the weed had damaged his ears.
We headed to Parker, Colorado where we stayed for about a week with Chris’s fathers; his biological father and his long-time gay partner. No, I am not kidding.
We had moved back to the wonderful state of Colorado to work for the same Italian restaurant we had started working for in Victoria. We found an apartment in the beautiful town of Loveland and made a home for ourselves.
Over the next year, I worked my ass off. I had been promoted to a corporate trainer and was traveling 3 weeks out of every month to a different state to train new employees in restaurants that were being opened. Chris and I hardly saw each other. I never complained. Truthfully, I was prowling about in my travels and having plenty of fun.
I saved as much as I could even though I was the primary bread winner and Chris was the primary debt accumulator. I eventually saved enough money to buy myself a new vehicle, a Dodge Ram, the truck I had wanted since high school. Shortly before I did, the brakes on the Taurus went out again. I told Chris that I had no desire to fix them this time and that if he wanted to keep the car, he could figure it out.
Chris decided the best idea was to leave the Taurus in the parking lot adjoining the restaurant and the shopping complex behind it. I decided it was no longer my problem, even when the neon towing warnings started appearing on the windshield.
One evening, after working a 12 hour shift, I left the restaurant to find Chris outside waiting for me. He had been done with work shortly before. I walked out to the truck and lit a cigarette with the intention of sitting a few moments to rest my feet. We had worked very late, so the only person left in the restaurant was my manager, Josh. Chris said that he was going to check something out with the car, so I agreed to wait for him. I watched Chris get in the car and drive it around to the front of the restaurant and out of my sight. I was not really sure what he was doing, but I didn’t really care.
I closed my eyes for a few moments and enjoyed the gradual relief that I was experiencing in my feet. While there, I thought about the time when Chris and I were living in Boulder. He and our other roommate, Sean, had decided to tow our old Honda CRX to Parker. Chris sat in the drivers seat of the CRX while Sean pulled it with the Suburban. Chris, being as bright as he was, had forgotten to put the car in neutral AND decided to hold down the brakes throughout the entire 45 minute trip. Once they arrived, the hubcaps fell completely off the car. He had melted the brakes. Brilliant on his part.
Chris finally offered to drive once we had reached the western border of Kansas.
“That would be great!” I said, sarcastically. “I don’t think I can make it the last 4 hours!”
He didn’t seem to notice my sarcasm. Perhaps the weed had damaged his ears.
We headed to Parker, Colorado where we stayed for about a week with Chris’s fathers; his biological father and his long-time gay partner. No, I am not kidding.
We had moved back to the wonderful state of Colorado to work for the same Italian restaurant we had started working for in Victoria. We found an apartment in the beautiful town of Loveland and made a home for ourselves.
Over the next year, I worked my ass off. I had been promoted to a corporate trainer and was traveling 3 weeks out of every month to a different state to train new employees in restaurants that were being opened. Chris and I hardly saw each other. I never complained. Truthfully, I was prowling about in my travels and having plenty of fun.
I saved as much as I could even though I was the primary bread winner and Chris was the primary debt accumulator. I eventually saved enough money to buy myself a new vehicle, a Dodge Ram, the truck I had wanted since high school. Shortly before I did, the brakes on the Taurus went out again. I told Chris that I had no desire to fix them this time and that if he wanted to keep the car, he could figure it out.
Chris decided the best idea was to leave the Taurus in the parking lot adjoining the restaurant and the shopping complex behind it. I decided it was no longer my problem, even when the neon towing warnings started appearing on the windshield.
One evening, after working a 12 hour shift, I left the restaurant to find Chris outside waiting for me. He had been done with work shortly before. I walked out to the truck and lit a cigarette with the intention of sitting a few moments to rest my feet. We had worked very late, so the only person left in the restaurant was my manager, Josh. Chris said that he was going to check something out with the car, so I agreed to wait for him. I watched Chris get in the car and drive it around to the front of the restaurant and out of my sight. I was not really sure what he was doing, but I didn’t really care.
I closed my eyes for a few moments and enjoyed the gradual relief that I was experiencing in my feet. While there, I thought about the time when Chris and I were living in Boulder. He and our other roommate, Sean, had decided to tow our old Honda CRX to Parker. Chris sat in the drivers seat of the CRX while Sean pulled it with the Suburban. Chris, being as bright as he was, had forgotten to put the car in neutral AND decided to hold down the brakes throughout the entire 45 minute trip. Once they arrived, the hubcaps fell completely off the car. He had melted the brakes. Brilliant on his part.
I wondered what brilliance he was summoning now.
A couple moments became too many and I started to wonder what the hell Chris was doing. I looked to the restaurant to find him walking around the outside and toward the truck. Because it was dark it took me a few seconds to realize that he was completely soaked. From head to toe, it looked as though he had just jumped in a lake. A wave of horror started to creep into my belly. He approached the truck and I took a deep breath.
“We have a problem,” he said.
“Dear god, do I even want to know?”
I got out of my truck and followed him to the front of the restaurant, but the car was not there.
“Oh sweet Jesus.” I said.
Around the entire shopping complex ran a drainage ditch. About 15 feet deep, and filled with about 6 feet of water, it encircled the entire square block. As we drew nearer, I could see that one of the young Aspen trees atop the ditch had been completely knocked down and uprooted and there were tire tracks in the grass, leading straight in to the ditch.
I looked down to find our Ford Taurus, submerged head-first, the water reaching the very end of the trunk.
“You have GOT to be kidding me right now!!!” I yelled. “What the FUCK happened?!”
“I wanted to see if…well, I wanted to see if there was a way to get the car back to the apartment.”
“So, you thought that maybe the brakes had just magically HEALED themselves, or what?” I asked, shocked and furious.
“Well, no.”
“Okay, so when you realized that they weren’t working you decided to head for the ditch?!”
“I thought the tree could stop the car.”
“It’s a GOD DAMN SAPLING, for Christ’s sake! Have you no brain cells at all?!”
A couple moments became too many and I started to wonder what the hell Chris was doing. I looked to the restaurant to find him walking around the outside and toward the truck. Because it was dark it took me a few seconds to realize that he was completely soaked. From head to toe, it looked as though he had just jumped in a lake. A wave of horror started to creep into my belly. He approached the truck and I took a deep breath.
“We have a problem,” he said.
“Dear god, do I even want to know?”
I got out of my truck and followed him to the front of the restaurant, but the car was not there.
“Oh sweet Jesus.” I said.
Around the entire shopping complex ran a drainage ditch. About 15 feet deep, and filled with about 6 feet of water, it encircled the entire square block. As we drew nearer, I could see that one of the young Aspen trees atop the ditch had been completely knocked down and uprooted and there were tire tracks in the grass, leading straight in to the ditch.
I looked down to find our Ford Taurus, submerged head-first, the water reaching the very end of the trunk.
“You have GOT to be kidding me right now!!!” I yelled. “What the FUCK happened?!”
“I wanted to see if…well, I wanted to see if there was a way to get the car back to the apartment.”
“So, you thought that maybe the brakes had just magically HEALED themselves, or what?” I asked, shocked and furious.
“Well, no.”
“Okay, so when you realized that they weren’t working you decided to head for the ditch?!”
“I thought the tree could stop the car.”
“It’s a GOD DAMN SAPLING, for Christ’s sake! Have you no brain cells at all?!”
In his hysteria, he had apparently leaped from the car as it plunged in to the filthy water.
He said nothing else of consequence, only apologized like a 5 year old in danger of being spanked while I went inside to seek help from Josh.
Fortunately, between Josh’s truck and my own, we were able to tow the car out of the ditch. After doing so, I stood at the top looking down in to the water and wondering if we should have just left it there.
“It’s no ravine,” I said to myself, “but it still would have been nice to see it float away.”
I pictured the car floating away, and then pictured Chris in it, and smiled.
I turned around to see the car parked in front of the restaurant and my smile disappeared. Water drained from all crevices, trash clung to the tires, and clusters of dead leaves sprouted from everywhere.
“What should we do now?” Chris asked me.
“We?” I said. “I am going home, you can do whatever the fuck you want.”
He followed me to the truck and I did not argue when he climbed in. We rode in silence and, once home, I went to the bedroom with a freshly rolled joint and locked the door.
The car was towed 2 days later and I broke up with Chris 2 weeks later. The nail in the coffin was the day that Chris came home sporting a Dodge Ram, prettier and with more bells and whistles than mine, which he financed at 10% knowing that he didn't make any money. It was the lowest blow yet.
Shortly after I kicked Chris out, I met my husband. I was swept off my feet immediately. On our first date, however, I realized something. He drove a Ford Taurus.
He said nothing else of consequence, only apologized like a 5 year old in danger of being spanked while I went inside to seek help from Josh.
Fortunately, between Josh’s truck and my own, we were able to tow the car out of the ditch. After doing so, I stood at the top looking down in to the water and wondering if we should have just left it there.
“It’s no ravine,” I said to myself, “but it still would have been nice to see it float away.”
I pictured the car floating away, and then pictured Chris in it, and smiled.
I turned around to see the car parked in front of the restaurant and my smile disappeared. Water drained from all crevices, trash clung to the tires, and clusters of dead leaves sprouted from everywhere.
“What should we do now?” Chris asked me.
“We?” I said. “I am going home, you can do whatever the fuck you want.”
He followed me to the truck and I did not argue when he climbed in. We rode in silence and, once home, I went to the bedroom with a freshly rolled joint and locked the door.
The car was towed 2 days later and I broke up with Chris 2 weeks later. The nail in the coffin was the day that Chris came home sporting a Dodge Ram, prettier and with more bells and whistles than mine, which he financed at 10% knowing that he didn't make any money. It was the lowest blow yet.
Shortly after I kicked Chris out, I met my husband. I was swept off my feet immediately. On our first date, however, I realized something. He drove a Ford Taurus.
“Lord, help me.” I said.
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