Several years ago, back when I was married and living in Arizona (where my husband was stationed at Ft Huachuca), the Army decided that a full year in one place was out of the question and decided to send him back to Georgia. Rather than follow him around the country trying to get one short-term job after another, I came back to Kansas to attempt to regain a semblance of a career.
The point is, I had to leave my Rav4 with him because I needed the truck for the horses. However, commuting in the 3/4 ton truck had its own issues. I found myself needing an inexpensive, dependable car, and found a 1989 Honda Civic, similar to this one.
After some intense negotiations I bought the little car for $1000, all-in, and my sister (who had so kindly brought me to the city to buy the car) and I decided that we needed to get the car moved out of there fairly quickly.
See, the guy selling the car saw two young ladies and perhaps saw an opportunity. After test-driving the car, I told him all I had was $1000 cash and he proceeded to try to "sell" me the car, but it wasn't working. I just repeated my original proposal, over and over and finally he gave in. We went inside to do the paperwork. He got the temporary tag ready, all the receipts, etc., and then told me the total--the $1000 plus tags, taxes, administrative fees, etc. I repeated, "All I have is $1000."
The salesman was not pleased. He ripped up the note, scribbled a new one and told me "get out of here." I handed him the $1000 and so it was at this point, my sister and I decided we'd best get the heck out of Dodge.
However, we both wanted to do more in the city before heading home, so we parked the car down the road in a restaurant parking lot near the freeway overpass. As we got into her car, I remarked to my sister, "Now I just need to name it!"
She replied, "Oh, God!"
My retort was, "God it is!"
So then, the rest of the day was filled with comments about my car named 'God.' At one point we drove along the overpass and I strained to see if my car was still there. My sister told me, "Just because you can't see God, doesn't mean He isn't there." Hysterics ensued.
And it didn't stop there. A few months later I planned on seeing my sister and she said she wasn't sure if my car would make the trip. My reply was "God will get me there." Once again, we broke out in roaring laughter.
This went on for the entire time I had that car, and it was a sad day when I decided we no longer needed it and it was quickly sold. It was just a cheap, little, dependable car that got me to work inexpensively, but ever since, it has been known as "The Car Called God."
Lord, I apologize,