Like most teenagers, I couldn’t wait to get my license. And once I got my license, the daydreams began.
I would get a convertible, a Mustang. I would drive down the streets in my hometown, aviators on and top down. Passersby young and old would stare with envy. And maybe – just maybe – I would stop to give a lucky pedestrian a ride. Assuming, of course, that the pedestrian was first, good looking, and second, good looking.
Reality was a bit more bracing. I did drive a Ford, but not the much-longed-for Mustang. Instead, a powder blue, four-door Fairmont with a racing strip and only one hubcap was my destiny. It also had spark knock (I couldn’t afford premium at a princely $1.29 per gallon) and a dent in the front passenger door that prevented proper use. Its only option? FM radio.
Despite its complete lack of swagger, it got me from point A to point B and I didn’t have to buy it off my parents, all major plusses. Then, college. I’m not sure the Fairmont could make it up there, my mom said, looking skeptical.
You won’t need a car anyway, she added.
The Fairmont stayed home, my Mustang dreams along with it.
My Kingdom for a Horse
For four years of school, I forgot about owning a car until graduation. I got a job right away – in those days, jobs popped up as easily as apples in October – and realized that point B was no longer within walking distance. So, wallet in hand, I proceeded to the nearest Ford Mustang parts store and dealership where I road tested a used Mustang.
It was glorious! A roadster, dark green with a tan leather interior and a tiny golden pinstripe that danced alongside, she sounded ready to drive … fast. I’ve been so bored, just sitting here on the lot, she said. Get me out of here. Now.
So we did. The salesman was talking but neither of us were listening, driving along a windy and deserted upstate New York back road. I drove fast, but it was easy to tell that it wasn’t fast enough. She had a big five liter engine that demanded satisfaction. Unfortunately, that sort of satisfaction doesn’t happen on a test drive – at least, not without complaints from the unwitting salesman seated to my right.
Damn the Wallet, She’s Mine
That was all it took for me to sign myself up right then and there. I was not going to let the fact that I had neither a down payment nor any collateral stop me from owning that car. And never mind that several semesters of charging my way to a packed clothes closet got me in just enough credit trouble to make getting a loan difficult. Plus, I hadn’t started my job yet.
Oddly enough, it turns out that no down payment, middling credit and no proof of employment makes buying a car extremely difficult. So I left, sadly waving goodbye to my baby as I gazed across the CJ Pony Parts Mustang parts on display for buyers who could one, afford them and two, actually drove a Mustang.
Fast Forward
Twenty years later and my husband and I own quintessential Connecticut vehicles. And although our cars are adequate for our needs, they don’t have that big something extra that America’s classic Mustang provides. We’ve driven Mustangs whenever we’ve had the opportunity – most recently on a drive down the California coastline and yes, it was awesome – but it would be so much better to have a creampuff sitting in my garage, ready for our next adventure.
Now that you’ve imagined your own Mustang fantasy, find out more about CJ Pony Parts Ford Mustang parts. Guest post written by CJ.
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