This white 2002, V6 3.7 liter engine, 4WD, hand crank window, gas guzzling, perpetually spotted windshield, balled tire’d creaky Jeep is one of my bestest friends.
The passenger side back door does not power lock like the rest, and I have to remind my friends after every ride to lock it. Sometimes they get annoyed that I badger them about it. But when I don’t, they forget, so I do.
There’s a weird leak in (I think) the top right hand corner of the windshield caulking, and probably somewhere else as well. You don’t notice this leak when it rains, only after, when the carpets are wet, and you constantly shock passengers with your sudden outcry of, “DON’T PUT YOUR BAG ON THE FLOOR. Sorry, but it’s wet.” Also, that means no suede boots. Ever.
Because of this leak, when it rains in the summer, you have to be vigilant about remembering to run outside immediately after the showers have passed and crack the windows open. If you don’t, well gosh, I hope you’re not allergic to mold, like my roommate was when she came with me on a $130 trip to the car wash. She braved the journey like a champ, while the workers at the most expensive car wash I have ever encountered gave me looks of sheer horror when I opened my trunk to reveal the damage. Lesson learned.
I’m pretty sure in its heyday this beauty got a whopping 16 miles to the gallon. But ancient and decrepit as it is, it’s no longer so very efficient. When your commute is exactly 60 miles in each direction, three times a week, UGH. A full tank of gas can get you there and back and there again and ALMOST back again, but not quite. That’s right, one tank, less than two days of travel to and from work.
Now, that’s not entirely my girl’s fault. She’s getting on in years, and my travel needs are absolutely absurd. But it is the reality of the situation.
I am saddened today by the notion that it is time to say goodbye to my car. My first car, my most loved automobile, my 2002 Jeep Liberty.
My mother purchased a new car recently, and has graciously allowed me to take her old Honda Odyssey for no cost. That’s right – I’m getting a minivan.
I’m not particularly excited about what a banged up silver minivan is going to do to my bad girl image. (That’s a joke, in case you missed it.) But it’s the financially sound thing to do right now. It’s already better on gas than my Jiberty, and because it’s such a mom car I’ll automatically drive slower in it, it’s natural, saving even more in the way of fuel. As in, no more 85mph down the LIE just cause I feel like it. And I’ve only ever gotten one speeding ticket as a youth, but I’d really like to avoid getting another. Time to start leaving the house on time…
So this week, the Liberty goes up for sale. Anyone interested? Kelley Blue Book values my baby at about $3300, but I can be more than reasonable about a price! No takers? Ah well.
Wall-E is pretty upset too. Don’t worry, he’ll be making the move with me.