Personal Narrative-It's Time To Get My First Car

To any American teen, getting their first car is their first big step to freedom. Being able to escape the confinement of your neighborhood without having to ask for a ride everywhere is the greatest feeling on earth. Nothing can touch you when you're driving to your destination with your windows rolled down and the stereo playing your favorite song on your own set of wheels that you paid for with the money you earned the previous summer. Everybody wants the biggest truck or the fastest car out there and they want their parents to buy it for them, but the feeling of pride when you pay for your own vehicle is unbeatable.
When I was looking for my first car, I had to search for months before I found the perfect one for me. It had to be fast, with an 8-cylinder engine, rear wheel drive, and a manual
transmission, which didn't happen in reality. The entire summer before I turned sixteen I dreamt about having my own car. I was sick and tired of having to walk to people's houses and having to ask my parents for a ride wherever I went. I wanted to go out and drive to the movies or to get food on my own, just me and my friends, so I worked for it. I got a job lifeguarding at the pool and soon later I got a second job working in the concession stands at the baseball fields in the Valley. I worked hard the entire summer, sitting in the hot sun watching people swim while I sat there and sweat and emptying the grease at the concession stand while people ordered their fries. I didn't mind, because there was a goal in mind working hard for every penny. In the back of my mind sat the thought of the keys, the seats, the wheels of my own new-to-me vehicle. I bugged my parents every day that summer following when I turned sixteen, reminding them twenty times a day that we needed to start looking for a car.
Every day I would get more and more anxious about my own car, the freedom of the wind flowing through the open windows and the stereo with my friends in the back seat. Finally the day came when my father spoke the words "Hey buddy, wanna go look for cars today?". My heart was racing and I ran upstairs to go grab my shoes and my wallet because the moment I had been waiting years for was right there.
That day we had gone out and dealership after dealership, the cars they had for my price range were all four-cylinders, half of what my standard had been set at, we couldn't find a half-decent car anywhere around my price range. Weeks of dissapointed dealership visits with hours spent on car websites looking for the perfect car, a Chevy Camaro SS. Until one day, we saw it, a 1997 Camaro Z28.
Sure, it wasn't an SS, but it still had a big, loud V8, so I didn't care. I was so excited, until we called the insurance company, and needless to say, it was a no-go.
I went home upset again, but I wasn't about to give up. A day I will never forget is the day I saw my first car. It was another long day of looking at cars I would never dream about driving. My parents forced me to try driving a little four cylinder again, and as usual, I wasn't impressed, and when I got out of the vehicle to start heading home, I saw it pull up.
It was a 2001 Nissan Maxima and it pulled up with a black coat that was glistening in the sunlight and reflecting everything around it in it's pitch black
body.
That second I remember turning to my dad and saying "That's gonna be my first car". The owner was there to buy a brand new Maxima and was trading in what was to be my first car. I saw him get out and looked inside and asked a salesman about it and told me that it would be for sale soon. The anxiety in my mind about whether it would be affordable was killing me, so I called the dealership every day asking about my to-be first car. I called them so much that they already knew what I was calling about every time I would call. Finally, the day came when I was able to test drive the shiny black vehicle and it was perfect, the only issue was the price, my deepest fear. I had to go home, my head hung in dissapointment again, depressed about never being able to find a car and having to work all the next night. Still upset, I went to work the next night and to my suprise my parents showed up at the concession stand to order food and when they went to pay me, they pulled out a set of Nissan car keys, and I smiled the biggest, happiest smile of my life and my heart raced and ached to get out to my gleaming first car.
Finally when I got off work that night I ran out to get into my own car and started the engine, it was perfection. I just sat there smiling at the glory of my first step towards freedom, and it came in the form of my first car. That night, I drove it home, parked it in the garage, and smiled again before going to bed. Everybody remembers their first car, especially if they bought it themselves, even if they aren't car people. It's such a huge part of the American way of life to have your own set of wheels and just drive to wherever. Even if it isn't perfect, or super expensive, or super fast, it's still yours and it's just like a human, it may have it's own imperfections, but that's what makes them who they are and that's what you love about them. The freedom of the wind through your hair and having no limits on where to go. It's the modern-day version of the wild west, driving off into the sunset on your trusty steed, pioneering your own newly-expanded horizon.