The 'Scort

Heaven help me, I am driving the 'Scort again.

The icy sidewalk says,
"Go ahead. Just try and walk on me!"

This is The 'Scort. It's a 1996 Ford Escort. I've been driving it on and off since 1997. As a high school senior, I drove it to school even though I lived two blocks away. So... sorry about that, Greenzo. But did you really expect me to walk?

When I left for college, the 'Scort stayed home and my brother adopted it. Despite its turquoise exterior, he was thrilled to have a car to drive that wasn't my mom's minivan (the "Pimp Van," as he so affectionately dubbed it). When I moved into my own apartment after two years in the dorms, the 'Scort traveled to Ann Arbor with me.

Then it was off to DC in 2002. Living in Arlington for the first few years was fine for the 'Scort. She had a parking spot and didn't have to worry about zoned parking. And when the laundry room exposer prompted a move into DC, the 'Scort sadly couldn't make the trip.

I returned it to Michigan, into my brother's loving arms. They needed a second car now that there was a baby on the way. Coincidentally, that was the same trip that found me in the emergency room getting six stitches in my skull after passing out at the gynecologist's office.

And now, with Kari on maternity leave and a newborn and a toddler at home, the 'Scort is sitting in their garage, neglected and lonely. And since I don't yet have the resources to buy a car, I figured that no one would miss it. And they don't.

I arrived at my brother's house yesterday morning and found Steven out back, cleaning out the car. I knew that he was a bit of a mess and the 'Scort probably needed a little tidying up, but how bad could it be? What had happened?

Oh sweet Jesus.

My niece had happened. All over the backseat. There were crumbs of what I think were cheez-its, ground into the floor. Everything was sticky. Granted, the empty pop bottles were Steven's fault, because Alexis does not drink pop. Unless, of course, it's Christmas, and Uncle Jim gives her Vault without anyone realizing.

But Steven spent an hour outside, cleaning and vacuuming, and now it's as good as... a ten-year-old car. But it's clean!

Not having a car for a week wasn't a huge problem, and although I can catch buses to take me anywhere in Ann Arbor, I can't very well take a bus to my brother's house or to Meijer (Meijer!) or Target. My tiny car is a little worse for wear, but she still runs. And I'm lucky to have her again.

Now if I could afford gas, things would be perfect.