How We Met
I have been fortunate enough to own two different versions of my favorite car. I was in college and had just injured my first car beyond repair. In my defense, I had no way of knowing that a bus, 20 cars ahead of me, had stopped for the railroad tracks while I was coming off the interstate and looking over my shoulder to merge with traffic! My dad took me to a dealer to look at their lemon lot. Not surprisingly, there was nothing there that I wanted to be seen driving, but on the way back to the showroom, a tad discouraged and not paying much attention to where I was going, I literally bumped into my destiny. Repressing the urge to say, “excuse me,” to the little silver car, I got a look at the window sticker and thought, “Hey! This doesn’t look bad!” I had never seen or heard of one before – a Volkswagen Scirocco – but it looked kind of cool. I asked if I could take it for a test drive, and from that moment, I knew there would be no other car for me. It was an ’86, with a standard transmission and pretty basic, with no bells or whistles. But it fit me, and I loved driving it.
The New and Improved Version
The car was so impressive, in fact, that when my dad happened upon the opportunity to purchase an upgraded version of mine, he jumped on it. I am not usually a fickle person. I’m – most always – loyal to a fault. However, when my dad brought this newer one home, suggesting that it could be mine someday, I fell in love and immediately began plotting to say goodbye to my current car sooner than later. This newer one was beyond awesome to me – it was an ’88, cherry red, with a sunroof and a tail (yes, I know the proper name is “rear spoiler”)! It had a 16-valve engine (which meant “high-performance” to the insurance company), a 5-speed transmission, a Blaupunkt stereo, and a very sexy race-style steering wheel cover. Within a year, I had sold my “starter” Scirocco, and convinced my dad to sign that sweet, red machine over to me.
Why It Captured My Heart So Completely
Female status aside, I can appreciate a fine automobile specimen and a religious driving experience. This little ’88 Scirocco had it all. It carried me back and forth to college, making the five-hour, 400-mile trip through the mountains of Virginia on one tank of gas. Acceleration was impressive – I still had horses to spare at 85 mph (not that I ever took it that high, Dad…). The transmission was as smooth as anything (I was always taught that manual is “real driving;” automatics are not), and it handled like a dream. Sadly, I only owned the car for a little over 2 years. I still miss it. I may even start looking for another one – as soon as my kids are no longer in car seats. Ferris Bueller may have been talking about a Ferrari, but I felt the same way about my little Scirocco: “It is so choice. If you have the means, I highly recommend picking one up.”
