The Dickmobile

In retrospect, I really should have taken pictures of this.

Anyways, since my commuting-via-driving job ended last year, my boyfriend and I tried out being a one-car family and it worked.  Our apartment building has an underground garage.  I haven’t driven my car regularly for a year.  It’s a 1999 Jeep Cherokee sport.  I named it Missy Elliot The Jeep Dot Com. 

In the beginning, I’d drive my car outside once a week on a rainy day just to wash the garage dust off her.  Then that kind of petered out and she’s just been collecting a layer of dust for months on end.  In a garage where about 200 other people park, drive, walk to and from their car and the elevator.  At first, I had a parking spot right in front of the elevator, a high-traffic area.  People would write things in the dust on my car as they passed.  The oh-so-clever “Wash Me” was frequent. 

Then I moved to a parking spot more out of the way.  My car has been little more than storage for me and a dirty message board for the rest of the tenants here.  People like to draw dicks.  There were so many dicks drawn on my car once it was in a spot further from the elevator!  Dicks, balls, cocks, wieners, schlongs, wing-dang-doodles… all over the car.  Someone was even clever enough just to write “DICK” across the windshield.  Someone else drew a butt pooping. 

I’ve pretended for months that it wasn’t my car, just so I didn’t become known as The Girl With The Dickmobile.  Or have people be all “Why don’t you drive your car?” How about fuck you I’ve been too lazy to get rid of it.

Since I’m moving in ONE WEEK, I can’t just leave the hunk of junk here, so Jaclyn and her dad came over, we gave it a jump, she started, and now her dad is taking The Dickmobile.  Godspeed, Missy Elliot the Dickmobile Dot Com.

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2 responses to “The Dickmobile

  1. My dad says thanks. “I can’t believe you convinced your friend to give me a free car even though she hates my guts”. Yeah. Your hate is not subtle 🙂

  2. I don’t really try to hide my emotions. He’s shitty, he should feel guilty of how shitty he is yet still keeps getting charity and pity and handouts from those around him.

    But what do I know ALL I CARE ABOUT IS PARTYING AND DRINKING, RIGHT?

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