Personal Influences

Total words: 1139
Some people growing up in high school seemed to be influenced by their friends, clothing, music, or even what sports they liked to play. What really changed my outlook on life was my car, an old Ford Taurus. It had many scratches and gaps all through the body of the car. It resembled that of a beat up tuna can that's found in a person's garbage. This really old beat up car further kept me isolated then I already had been; in fact, my car changed my personality by extremely secluding me as a youth, especially at school and when dating.

During my days in junior high and elementary school I was more out spoken. I think it's fair to say that I was more like one of the kids in class who wore a dunce cap in the back, and spoke every week or hardly at all. Yet on the other hand, at lunch or at recess I interacted with my peers socially. A good game of Soccer when I was in elementary and computer games at lunch when I was in junior high. But most of that would change, as I would venture onto high school.

When I reached high school I further isolated myself from social crowds from fear of an ugly car. No one at high school had a worse car than mine, well except for the Bingham twins that had to push their car to get it started every morning. So I guess I really had the second worse car at school. I often felt that I wore an imaginary silver Olympic medal, for possessing a substandard car. And every one marked me as junkyard Josh. "Hey it's that guy who can't afford a car that doesn't look like it came out of a Ford penitentiary," the kids in the hall would say to themselves as I walked by.

One day, after a P.E. class having just beat some basketball players at pepper (a game that two people compete to shoot out each other); I felt very proud of myself and walked out the school doors, my chest puffed up. I felt exhilarated for beating jocks at there own game. Then, in the parking lot rite before I was about to get in my car, a group of outcasts began laughing, turning around, a really fat girl who could pas for Mrs. Clause or Mr. Kool-Aid's wife shouted out at me. "Yo, B your car is uglier then I am." I was so humiliated to think that not even horizontally challenged adolescences would ride in my car, so after that incident I would purposely wait an hour for every one else to drive home just to avoid further humiliation.

My post high school dating experiences were fun; even though, I often didn't do much. At a younger age, I didn't have many girl friends, and at an elementary grade level a girlfriend would simply mean you wrote, "I love you notes in class." But it was the beginning of getting to known the other sex. My first actual girl friend I had was in seventh grade, Stacy Longhorn. Our dates would simply consist of going to the mall and roller-skating. Though it was enjoyable, I never felt pressured in any way.

Although, I was withdrawn from most of the student body at high school, I still tried to date and have somewhat of a social life. On one particular night, I called my neighbor Sara if she cared to see Star Wars Episode Two Attack of The Clones, and grab a bite to eat. She consented because she didn't realize the repulsive car I drove. I picked her up and everything seemed fine until she saw the second worst car in the city. Her jaw literally dropped when I opened the car door as if she was being escorted to a junkyard. She didn't say a whole lot but I persisted to find out about her, until it turned into a brutal game of 20 questions that I was drastically losing.

A radio is all was a good tool on a first date but mine had died with the last battery. Although it would come on as if it was possessed by a car demon and turn off when it felt like it. This date was going horrible she hated my car and didn't say a whole lot. I imagined to myself that I was on one of those blind date shows that turn out to be a terrifying evening, like going on a date with the living dead. I could just see some cartoons popping up in the car and making jokes at this awkward situation.

Diner at the outback stake house really changed the atmosphere of the date. Sara and I had T-bone steaks with baked potatoes and some veggies. Arriving at the theater we walked to the entrance embraced hand in hand as a lovesick couple. The movie started while excitement rushed through me as if I over dosed on sugar. Until thirty minutes into the movie I whispered to Sara, "Watch this part carefully Ankian Skywalker is about to whoop trash on these Geonosis punks." She quickly let go of my hand, and responded you've seen this before? While crossing her legs with utter discuss. I felt like some star track alien from another galaxy, "I guess sci-fi was not her thing." Nonetheless, it was obvious that my car had frightened Sara away.

After that date, conversely, I was terrified to date anyone else for almost a year as I further isolated myself, and to some degree postponed my life as a teenager. By not enjoying a social aspect of school, I was like a black window hanging around in the shadows of life that most people would fear to go near. I held my car individually responsible for my low social interaction and seclusion.

For most people maturing in high school and threw adolescences seem to find something to associate themselves with like friends, clothing, music, or sports, for me it was my car. Unlike most people, I often felt linked to my car with much embarrassment and frustration. Being mocked, scoffed, and laughed at for driving a half-running car, and an insignificant peace of junk never set too well with me, nevertheless, I have grown to like it in spite of its Achilles' axel. My car over the years has really become a part of me; kind of like an annoying twin, one loves and hates. It also taught me a life-learned lesson to keep going on even if there might be a few bumps in the road, and when some situations get a little shaky. I know now that all my problems can be fixed or repaired, if I just look at them on a daily basis.

Add a Review for this free essay

Be the first one to review this free Essay

Sticky Note Text....

Welcome! Not a Member? Click here to Join Now!
Log in
Forgot Password?