Charger Lust

We took a trip to see my uncle in the northern part of the state, and as we were passing through the city where my mom bought her vehicle, we left it at the dealership for service and took my car on the trip. The dealership had one perfect silver Charger sitting a little to the side of the other used cars.

It gleamed in the afternoon sun like a katana blade. The muscular front end curved toward the ground like the chin of a predator crouched to spring. I swear, I could almost hear the thing whispering to me, soft rustling murmurs of big engine and fast acceleration.

I wanted to trail my fingers across those shining curves to see if it would purr. I wanted to sit behind the wheel and feel those huge tires eat the pavement. I decided that when we got back, I would cast caution to the winds and find out how much they wanted for it.

I knew from the beginning that there was no way I would walk out of there with that gorgeous car. My pittance of a salary would never allow me to make the payments, even if they financed them for a hundred years. I just had to ask. What harm could come?

While they were running the credit checks (a process that increasingly scares me with it thoroughness...next they'll be requesting my shoe size and wanting to know how many serious relationships I've had, why they failed, and what I plan to do now), the dealer threw me the key and said, "Take it for a spin." I wrapped my fingers around the heavy, chunky, key and turned in anticipation. This, this was the moment I'd waited for since I first saw a picture of a Charger in a magazine.

I slid into the seat, slipped the key into the ignition, and the big engine came to life with a throaty rumble. I took it out of the parking lot and I swear it wasn't so much like driving as it was like using the reins on an intelligent animal. I took it out to a four-lane section and put the pedal down. I could feel the power immediately. The back end grabbed like a panther gathering itself for a lunge and the engine roared. I was at 60 in seconds.

I know it's not girly, but there is something inside me that absolutely thrills to those big engines. I wanted to keep it on the floor and run until the gas was gone from the tank. I wanted to roll down the windows and scream "WHOOHOOO!!" I wanted to catch the Mustang that was sedately cruising down the same strip and blow the doors off it. The car went straight to my head.

I forced myself back into the land of reality, and I took the car back to the dealership. Once I was back inside, the news was both what I expected and better than I expected. Of course I couldn't afford it. Had I bought it, I surely wouldn't be writing this. I might be in Mexico by now flying down the highway. I wasn't really disappointed since I never truly expected to get it, but the good news was that my credit check came up with good credit, just not enough to swing a payment low enough to be affordable.

The good news is that after I finish my second MA and my pittance increases to something more like a living wage (super-pittance?), I might actually be able to get one. It might be a "midlife crisis" type of thing, but I want a Charger. I want to get out on the highway and be a danger to myself and others (not really). I want to pull out to pass something and not have that sickening moment of hesitation before the engine hits passing gear.

Even though I didn't come home with that gorgeous machine, I did finally get behind the wheel of one. Like any addict, a taste just makes me crave more, but at least I can say that I've driven one.