When I turned 16 in 2002, the "in" thing for guys my age was to (have mommy and daddy) buy a truck or SUV and soup it up with a Flowmaster dual exhaust system, making the truck shake with a guttural growl. To me it seemed like the biggest waste of $1,000. Nothing like the roar of a lion to draw attention to a pizza-faced high school kid trying to look cool in his 1996 Dodge Ram with the windows down and a pasty arm hanging out.
However, nothing at my school drew girls like a convertible, especially under the hot Houston sun. My sophomore year, a friend of mine, Kyle, a senior at the time, had a forest green Mustang GT with a white soft top. It was the mid 1990s body style with the three horizontal taillights and a 5.0 liter engine. It was awesome.
Just being in that car with the top down in the parking lot made me cool. Girls would literally flock to us and gush over his car. It didn't matter that we were headed to golf practice; we were Maverick and Goose, oozing sex appeal in that convertible. Plus, it afforded him the opportunity to actually use the phrase, "hop in ladies."
And oh, how they would. Needless to say, I was hooked.
During my junior year of college, I (sort of) owned a convertible for 32 minutes. It was the greatest half hour of my life.
I don't recall the exact series of events that resulted in my father and me sitting at Don McGill Toyota at the corner of I-10 and Westgreen Blvd. in Katy - it had something to do with my sister crashing my mom's car and somehow resulting in me needing a new(er) vehicle - but there we were, staring at a black, 2004 Toyota Solara with a tan soft top and tan leather interior. It was beautiful.
The salesman had merely mentioned it in passing as we were looking at other cars, but it had barely left his mouth before I blurted out "sold!" (I am a terrible negotiator with my father's money, but that is another story for another day). Even my dad, normally a conservative shopper, especially when it comes to large purchases, couldn't resist the allure of that car.
The actual transaction is a blur in my memory, but the next thing I knew, we were screaming up I-10 with the top down and the wind blowing in our incredibly large ears (an unfortunate family trait). Rock music was blaring, and my left arm was swimming in the wind as I drove. It was bliss. Finally! "Hop in ladies," was firmly inserted into my vernacular.
When we returned home, I parked in front of the house instead of pulling into the driveway and left the top down (of course) so I could hop out. On a side note, hopping out of a convertible is much harder than hopping in. But I digress.
Heading inside, it dawned on me that my mother had never really given the stamp of approval on the convertible. So, we led with the great price and low mileage. We got a good deal on the warranty. I think it had even been equipped with new tires and a full tank of gas. The interior was light and wouldn't get too hot. Then we muddled through the fact it was convertible.
My mother laughed one of those laughs that said, "I'm laughing because I know you are kidding, because it would be nothing less than a tragedy if you weren't."
Ugh. Game over.
The reasoning behind her adamant rejection of all things convertible, while irrelevant, was sound enough. Something to do with safety and the car being broken into and the top slashed.
I felt like a dead man walking heading back down the driveway to the car. My dad drove it back to the dealership because I couldn't bear to do it. I remember sitting in the passenger seat completely dejected, barely wanting to touch anything in the car. I was never angry, but I had that same feeling everyone outside of Pittsburgh felt when the Arizona Cardinals lost the 2009 Super Bowl. It was a dream run, but in the end you had to know it wouldn't last.
We traded it in for the same model, only a hard top with a manual transmission (which I had no idea how to drive at the time), which I still drive to this day and thoroughly enjoy. You won't see me crying over a free car.
It's funny though, to look back at how cool I thought I was in that convertible. I'd probably never buy one for myself - wind makes my eyes water, I look ridiculous in most sunglasses and have a tendency to leave windows down when it rains - but at that time my wildest dream was coming true. For those 32 minutes ... I was king of the world.
