Personal Narrative: From Driver To A Car

Imagine getting handed over the keys to your very first car. I felt so much excitement inside of me. All I could think of being a race car driver. When I felt those keys in my hand for the first time, I could see myself cruising down the country roads to school. I also thought about being in the streets and racing my friends. Then I felt my mother snatch the keys from my hand and saying “I know you are not thinking about racing.” My mom would always tell me not to speed before I left the house. I heeded the warnings she gave. Feeling like I knew what I was doing, I had a sense of invincibility and knew the cops would never catch me. I ended up seeing the day that I thought would never come.

During our first run Taylor and I noticed that the car was turning way to the left. So in order to fix this we started our car as far to the right of the track as possible. After our first trials we realized that we needed to fix our string. We needed to cut the string we had attached off of our car and make a new one. When we made a new one me made it a little bit longer than the car and only hot glued it to the hook, not to the frame. Our new string had a loop in the end of it so we could put that on the toothpick. So now we understood that the toothpick did have a real purpose and we couldn’t glue the string to the mousetrap. After we made these changes we ran our car three more times.

It's Friday, March 25 in the morning at about 7:00 am when my mom wakes all of us up to get ready to leave. On the way to Minnesota we were driving, but still in suamico, we stopped at a Kwik Trip gas station to fill up the tank. We all were thirsty so we got a water from the cooler in the back of the truck, but my brother Roy spilled his all over himself and on the seats.”Good thing it's just water.” My mom said. As we drove across the imaginary line splitting Wisconsin with Minnesota there was a big rock carved into the shape of Minnesota that said, “Welcome To Minnesota.” When we were on the highway we almost got into two major accidents, the first one was when we had an open lane ahead the driver to the right of us tried coming into our lane right next to us and put our left two tires

One of the most important events that happened in my life was just recently, and that was buying my second car. This thought process was in the making for quite a while, considering that I was getting tired of taking my silver Hyundai Elantra in the garage every four months for repairs. For that reason, it made sense that it was time for a new car or a used one, I did not care which all I cared about was that it had to be a manual transmission. In addition, the fact that I outright hate going car shopping, I put it off and off until this past January. Since my mom had surgery that month, she was home and could go car shopping for me, well searching on the computer shopping. Since she was doing that, I did not have to worry about it and she knew what I wanted for a car.

Two years ago i was with my friend and his dad raced down at peoria speedway, and right after we unloaded the car he has a hauler so you can get on top of it. We heard commotion behind us and there was two white cars pulled up and two girls got out of the cars and they started fighting like pulling out their hair. I thought that it was hilarious probably 10 minutes into the fight the girl gets back in her car and tries to run the girl over. The girl that almost got ran over she punched a hole in the driver's side window and tries to pull her out. So the cops get there and both girls are in their own car and the officer is talking to the girl in the car behind the first car while she is talking to her the first girl spins her tires and she drives

Saturday had big plans with my family and didn't realize that I was supposed to go to azteca practice. I was so emotionally crushed I felt like my soul was being crushed by an evil elephant from hell, quitting was the only thing on my mind at that point. The drive there was so depressing i felt like eating a bullet just the thought of canceling my plans for this gave me aids the car drive there felt like it was in slow motion and the fact that my friend benito was driving made it that much worse since he drives slower than my grandma, it seemed like everything was black and white and the that was blasting in the car seemed nonexistent. once we showed up i regretted going just that much more since only about half the dancers even showed up I

As I felt the truck buck, I knew I that hadn’t switched gears properly. The engine shut off and the evening dragged on. “You killed it,” my father told me. I restarted the old truck up and tried driving again. Learning to drive was very difficult for me, but I needed to learn so that I could transport my brother and me to school and wherever else we needed to go. I waited to get behind the wheel of an automobile until I finished the dull driver’s education class that my parents had signed me up for a month after turning fifteen. I thought that I would easily pick up driving since I had passed all the written tests without any problems, but I was wrong.

When the day came I quickly turned into the proper lane and followed. The longer I had  to follow the more the anger built up.  It was 45 miles later when he turned into a gas station. He didn’t use his blinker so I had to make a quick turn around. I leaped out of my car and my voice was most certainly louder than probably necessary.

At approximately 2300 hours I heard a loud crash somewhere outside of my apartment building. I went out on the patio, looked around outside and saw a car stopped by the east entrance gate. I went outside to the gates and saw a black SUV stopped in the driveway, just inside the entrance gate. The car had a flat right front tire and damage to the right front quarter panel. I then looked at the entrance gate and saw the gate had been broken off its hinges and stuck in the open position. The reflective cross bar was stuck in the down position.

It was the summer before college around February. When I got my first car, a 2001 Honda Civic This car was something special to me because not only was it my first car but it has yet to break down on me. I've had a little issues here and there, but it gets me where I need to go. One day I went over to my dads to get my brakes fixed and I had the perfect breaks afterwards. But it wasn't installed 100% correctly. On one of my front brakes he forgot to put a brake pad in between the rotaries and the metal. So it was being chewed out because metal was rubbing against metal. The sound of the metals rubbing together was like a cannonball being scraped on concrete. So about a month after the excruciating noise I decided to stop by tires plus to

I kept my car cleaned and always in top mechanical shape . . . It was just the right choice for college life . . . Unequivocally, it was a big hit with both boys and girls. At one point my 2 roommates had new cars as well, so to visit our place was like going to a new car lot. The unspoken game of one-upmanship between men is based on using the car as an image tool.

I had been driving for two hours, but I didn’t care. Beams of sunlight glimmered through the gaps between buildings, and the cityscape was alive with light. It was a good day for diving, and I was a good driver. It was a perfect combination and I couldn’t help but smile. Mom undid the windows and her smile matched mine as her long grey hair danced in the rushing air. “Enjoying it, Mom?” I asked, waking her from a trance. “Yes, Robert” she replied, her voice cooler than the morning. The engine purred smoothly as I navigated the car gently through the turnpikes sharp curve. Ahead, a large truck spouted black stacks of exhaust high into the air, leaving a path clear of traffic in its wake. Behind it, a lone blue convertible cruzed comfortably, taking advantage of the now open road. Despite being a couple of

My car is a 1989 Honda Accord. It is a tan color that is chipped and needs a wax. The inside is a maroon vinyl that is faded from the sun exposure. The driver's door is dented from a kid hitting it with their bike. All corners of the bumpers are scratched. The driver door handle is also on its last leg. I have replaced half of whats under the hood already this year alone. It has no power steering that has built up my arm strength. Just like all thongs with age it squeaks as I drive that I tune out by turning up the radio. The radio can't be played about 19 or it just sounds like a person talking underwater. The air conditioning onlu works for the drivers, which is fine for me but none of my friends will ride with me because of this plus all

One hot, summer Saturday in Austin, when I first saw my future vehicle in a junkyard, it was a lousy excuse for a car. I had to admit, it was not much to begin with, but I had a vision of what it could be all flossed-up. It was plain white. The grill was bug-splattered, and the windows had yet to be tinted. When looked at from the right side, you could see a volleyball sized dent in the front quarter panel. The driver’s side, however, had a painting of a red fox, curled-up and fast asleep. The upholstery on the seats was frayed away by wear, it had dull, regular stock wheels, and the back license plate was hanging on by a single screw. With peer pressure and society’s views of what was better in this complex world, I decided that I was going

My sophomore year of high school was the year I knew I needed a job if I wanted a car—and I really wanted a car. My town had an Agway, a supply store for farmers and gardeners, which I did not know much about but was eager to learn. So I filled out an application and within that week I was called in for an interview. After that I had my first job.