I Killed Miss Sassy

8/27/06

Yes. That's right. I did it. I killed Miss Sassy.

Before you go casting judgment on me or getting your suspicions aroused (and who doesn't like having their suspicions aroused) give me a chance to explain. Miss Sassy was my car. Ok, that doesn't sound right in that context. I didn't name my car Miss Sassy. That would be silly. Damned context. Missy Sassy was my sister's car. Ok, that still doesn't sound right. Now it can be read that I ruthlessly killed my sister's car. I am innocent! Damned context.

I am now thinking that wrapping this into one neat little sentence, "I killed Miss Sassy," just isn't going to get us anywhere. Let's start at the beginning... well, earlier on anyway. My brother bought a bright, shiny new black, 5-spd Honda Civic back in '96 during his senior year of high school with the money that was supposed to pay for his college education. He promptly equipped it with dry land racing tires, a booming sound system and flashy rims. The catalytic converter was cast aside. No, he didn't name his car Miss Sassy. After burning much rubber around the block surrounding my parents' house, he made his escape into the waiting arms of the United States Navy.

A couple years later when my youngest sister, Laura was ready to drive, my brother was back in town and through some means he transferred ownership to my sister. The dry land racing tires were cast off in favor of sensible radials. The flashy rims were traded and leopard skin seat covers landed in the front seat. The booming sound system was gone (surely into my brother's new car), but there was now a silver sticker that read, "Sassy." My sister had a first car. She christened her Miss Sassy.

My sister drove this car for quite a few years and she always swore by it. It was reliable. It was quick when it needed to be. It didn't break down. Last year, her and her husband moved to Ohio and I traded cars with her. I had a 2001 Pontiac Bonneville with low miles and cool A/C that was totally impractical in my part of Koreatown. I also never really embraced the granny-matic power steering. That was a car made to cruise, not to parallel park. I offered her my car and it's cool A/C made to tame Midwestern humidity for her Civic born to parallel park and git my groceries. She took the deal (who wouldn't?), but it was a tearful goodbye. I scraped off the "Sassy" sticker (I'm a lot of things although I don't think sassy is one of them) and had myself a new, very used ride.

What can I say? The car was great. You turned the key and it turned on. You pressed the breaks and it stopped. It worked and, for those of you that know me, you know that I spend so much time using other methods of transportation (bumming rides, trains, bike, the bus... I hate the bus) that is all I need my car to do. A couple weeks back I was driving north on Bundy (Westside!) towards the entrance to the 10 (yes, I'm from LA and I just put "the" in front of my highway ~ deal with it) when this guy backed out of his driveway right in front of me and wham! I killed Miss Sassy.

Both the airbags went off in my car. The car filled with smoke that I later learned was from the gunpowder that explodes to deploy the airbags (the bags bruised the insides of my arms holding the steering wheel). Damn. I didn't even know the car had airbags. Sassy! The front end was totally smashed in. I was fine... totally fine other than the initial shock of being a very loud car crash. The other guy was also not hurt, but the passenger side of his car was not so lucky. He also didn't have insurance, but through some form of karma-tic miracle, he stepped up and paid me cash for Miss Sassy a couple days later. That's unheard of, right?

My sister, as you would expect, took the news of Sassy's demise very hard. We spent some time reminiscing about the fun she had in that car. Apparently, she drove it once, shortly, after her 18th birthday accidentally into Tijuana rather than pulling off at the last US exit. She may not have been prepared for the driver-survivor that is driving down there in Mexico, but Sassy was. Good ol' Sassy! My sister is getting better day-by-day. The grieving process can be hard. I am doing ok. I've learned to live with the burden of responsibility. I am now getting around LA via my bicycle and the subway. I even take the bus sometimes. There, I said it. I am from LA and I ride the bus (sometimes, and I don't like it, but that's how it is. The truth hurts.). My friends joke that I am the one person equipped in this town to conquer LA mass transit and survive without a car. I've decided to see if they are right. Right now, I am car-less and intending to stay that way. We'll see if that changes.