On my way back from work today, my mind was set adrift with nostalgia as I caught sight of someone driving a model of what was once my very first car, a 1978 Mitsubishi Galant, much like the one pictured, but in Midnight Blue.
While it may not have been the same color, it was the same model, well cared for and in prime condition. It's weird how something so inanimate can attach itself to so many fond memories; the joy of never having to walk,or wait an eternity for a taxi home, or the pride of holding the door (of a car you cleaned tirelessly) open for your smoking hot date, while onlookers wear an open mouthed gawk of envy.
Having the power to escape the vortex of your soul sucking home at any given time, felt akin to Superman's flight ability. Heck, there were times I'd leave for work on Friday morning, only to make it back an hour or two before work on Monday.
I think my uncle knew exactly what wild hay-day adventures were coming, when he handed those keys over with a broad smile.