The Old Lady

I call my car “the old lady”.

Not because she’s old, but because of the way she looks.

Pre-old lady, I always had cars that were black. It’s just my thing.

But the old lady…she snuck past my defenses.

You see, about three years ago my sweet black ride was headed into a state of disrepair.

And then my dad died.

He gifted me “the old lady”.

I cried like a baby. For two reasons.

1. I loved my dad.
2. He turned me into an instant senior citizen.

Last car on the planet I would ever choose. Last color on the planet I would ever choose.

Meet the old lady.

Buicks never die.

Great.

Does your car say anything about you? Do you name your cars?