For as long as I can remember, we’ve had The Beamer; or as we call him in our family, Joggie. (Pronounced yoggy, with a guttural G.)
My mom drove him for 16 years, with us kiddies in the back seat. She used to pretend that, when she pushes the hazard button, the car’s wings come out and we fly over the traffic. My cousin, bless his cotton socks, believed her.
When I turned 18, he became mine. For skiving off school with my mates, going through the car wash with my varsity buddies – all of us licking our McDonald’s R2 cones, making out in, driving too my first job in, and just generally being cool in.
She had an accident on Monday evening. Some lame-assed bugger jumped a red light. She’s fine. The Beamer’s totaled.
As she told the insurance peeps: “It’s a box of memories!”
I’m having a moment of sadness. Bye Joggie – thanks for the good times.