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Last Time I let my Sister Borrow My Car!Sep 21 '00 Write an essay on this topic.Around late Spring, 2000 Anno Dommini my parents in their generosity presented me with my very own car. Although I wasn’t going to receive my Driver’s License until June of the same year it was something for myself to be proud about. Unlike some my friends, in their parents rush to get rid of them in some horrible auto collision, who were given brand-new 2000 Mustangs ... I was given a 1991 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme which I was very happy with. The car, especially for its age, was exceptionally nice with power windows and locks, keyless entry, fairly low mileage, and a newly installed Alpine CD-Player. I was only able to drive my car on the few occasions that my father would take me on driving lessons. Within a month my sister Diana decided to sleep and drive in her own new Honda Civic. Somewhere in a forest a good distance from the road my sister smashed her little car up pretty good against an oak tree. I still didn’t have my license so my parents happily agreed to let her drive my car while her car was being repaired. Making it very clear I told my sister that she could only use my car to drive to work and back. Something told me that my stern warning meant little to her. My intuition held correct, not long after she initially borrowed my car she decided to go partying with her idiotic friends. My suspicion of her inability to keep any car in functioning ability for a lengthy period of time was true and was first confirmed by a phone call from Diana’s friend Heather. Heather called and told me in a snotty tone that Diana has not come to pick them up to go to Norcross yet and she wanted to know why Diana wasn’t there yet. I began to feel sort of queasy as I told Heather that Diana was to only drive my car to and from her place of work. As it turns out on her way to pick up Heather and several other unknowns Diana decided to watch an accident over the highway median as she careened at over seventy-miles-per-hour into the stopped car immediently ahead of her. Even then, however, Diana herself could not confirm my greatest fear for some time because in Diana’s infinite wisdom she decided to use her cell-phone constantly, even while at home, thus going over her overpriced phones limit of 300 hours per month. The phone company of course shut down her phone so that Diana was unable to phone neither myself nor our parents to inform us of the accident. Unfortunately the car was only equipped with liability, so that while the other cars involved in the multi-car pile-up were paid for by our gracious insurance my once beautiful car was left in ruin. The only thing our insurance agent was able to provide us with was that the car was totaled with an estimate of $3,000 of damage, which was considerably more than I could afford. On a bold attempt I demanded of my parents that my sister Diana pay for the damages, however they only smiled and patted me on the head while they gave some diddly excuse like I should have been on constant alert to make sure that Diana wasn’t mistreating my car ... simply meaning that they liked her better than me despite her being a complete twit and having caused our entire family nothing but grief. And such I was left with the expenses of my deceased car. Upon my sisters Honda being repaired two weeks later I immediently snatched the keys out of her finger-tips and to her dismay I simply drove off towards the sunset. Well I drove over to the Auto Junk-Yard in Lawrenceville. Using my meager savings for college I managed to obtain the necessary pieces to repair my car at a heavily discounted price. After driving home to my angry sister, not quite enough payback in my opinion, I waited until the next day when the Junk-Yard delivered the sun-bleached parts in front of my heap of a twisted car. During the course of the next two months every weekend was spent from dawn until dusk removing the broken pieces from my car and replacing them with the pieces from the junk-yard. It took three days just to get the hood of the car open. Frequently hitting my head and cutting my hands on sharp pieces of broken glass and metal, reviving my car was much more difficult than I had originally anticipated. Eventually I had repaired as much as I possibly could, the car almost looked decent but it would be a great deal more money before the car was back to its old self. Taking the car to the Oldsmobile dealership I had to have the air conditioning replaced and the transmission repaired for the equivalent of all the savings bonds my grandparents had sent me on Birthdays throughout the years. Following the costly expenditure at the dealership the bent radiator finally gave out and I had the car towed to a local auto center. Paul’s Tune-up installed at a fair price a rebuilt used radiator into my car. The finality of the repairs occurred after the functionality of the car had been completely restored and I noticed that my car was multi-colored. Barely within the remains of my life savings I had the entire car colored a beautiful shade of red by Maaco. I now have my drivers license. I am working at Michael’s Crafts Store and I am rebuilding my savings for college. My car is once again beautiful and working wonderfully. The moral of this story is that by using the intelligence god gave us in addition to hard work and determination we can accomplish anything. P.S. I still don’t like my sister.  |
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