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The 6 degrees of Dubman, the small car.

February 11, 2015

*** This is a sponsored post. All thoughts are my own and this is a true story***

I didn’t get my driver’s license until I was 30.

My brother also didn’t get his until late also so I used to tease my mum and tell her that her driving scarred us, but it’s not true. She was a great driver, or at least, she never had accidents and I wouldn’t have known about the finer points of being a good driver at that stage.

I moved to the city when I was 16 and the public transport was always fine (I was also fond of boozing and we all know that doesn’t mix well with motor vehicles.).

There was no burning need for a car… but then I decided it was time to get some wheels.

Unlike a teenager who can get incidental lessons driving to and from soccer practice with their folks, I had to pay cash money for every single hour of my lessons. In those days, you needed to log 50 or so hours.

At $70 a pop that was a considerable investment.

I think the requisite hours have doubled now, because they figure kids botch at least half of the hours. Not me. I was a stickler for the log book. I was determined and my driving instructor was cool and after 6 months of L plates I got that dang license first pop.

Those were the height of my cowboy boot wearing days and I thought I’d look uber styley climbing out of a Mustang.

Natch.

small car

However, it was deemed an impractical first car, let alone city car, by my veteran driving friends.

Then I thought about an old Mercedes but my friend had one and as much of a beauty as ol’ Bessy, as she was affectionately named, was she was also in the shop racking up fat bills a lot of the time.

My best friend was selling her white VW Golf, named Dubman (emblazoned in small black stickers across his rump). She loved him but was selling him because she was a musician and needed to buy Dubman Van to fit all her gear, so although everyone advised me against buying a used car from a friend, I adopted Dubman for my very own.

I loved that car. He was small and zippy, something I now know is smarter than a cool car.

car post 2

I had him for a few years, and then babies came along so I upgraded to a wagon but you never forget your first car.

Back before Dubman, about 10 years ago, I had this boyfriend called Steve. He was a handsome chap with a chiseled jaw, killer smile and broad shoulders. The kind of handsome you see in movies… My friend nicknamed him Porn Star Steve.

We dated for a bit but I was fairly broken from a relationship I’d just come out of so it was doomed before it even began. Steve was really in like with me so when I ended things it went a little sour. I never saw or heard from Steve again until two weeks ago when he dropped me a Facebook message randomly.

We shot a couple of pleasantries to and fro and then he mentioned that he had just bought a car from a guy about 2 hours from where I live. It was a little white VW Golf.

Called Dubman.

He was checking through the old rego papers and whose name should he see? Yup.

My ex-bofriend and bought my ex-car…. and that makes 6 ghosts of boyfriend’s past.

Since my marriage ended I have somehow or another come into contact with 6 ex-boyfriends from as far back as 25 years. It’s as though the Universe is doing some kind of stocktake in order for me to move forward. That’s not what I’m talking about today, however, I’m talking about cars.

Small cars and strapping lads it seems.

If you’re shopping for a small car, especially a zippy and dependable Ford, click here.

If you’re shopping for a dependable, strapping lad, I can’t help you. I’m working on that myself.

 

Tell, what were your first wheels?  Did you love it or was it just a vehicle?

 

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4 Comments

  • Reply Gloria February 11, 2015 at 11:08 am

    My first car was a red 2-door Daihatsu Charade. The most basic car with no frills – no guts (tiny engine), no air conditioning, no power steering, no power windows, no electric radio antenna, bare basic radio, 5-speed manual. I was 18, fresh out of high school, and needed wheels to get around. I paid WAY too much for it, even though my best friend at the time tried his utmost best to talk me out of buying the wreck. I loved it. It was my ticket to freedom. I drove everywhere, returned the favours to so many friends who carted me around before I got my car, and I even took up a job as a pizza delivery girl to help pay for the car.

    That’s how I lost the car. I “parked” it under a truck, one night while I was delivering a pizza. I was in an unfamiliar street, looking for a house number. It was late, the street was dark, I was tired, and I took my eyes off the road for a second. Next thing, I saw the tray of a flatbed parked on the side of the street cut clean through my windscreen. Missed me by 10cm. I was fine – not a scratch on me except a bit of whiplash – lucky for me, I was going 20km/hr. Car was a write-off.

    I loved that car.

    • Reply Danielle February 14, 2015 at 2:20 pm

      Oh my god!! That’s insane. So lucky…..so, so lucky.

  • Reply Sonia from Sonia Styling February 12, 2015 at 4:06 pm

    I got my first car at the age of 18 – a white early 90s Mitsubishi Lancer. I loved that car and the freedom it gave me. However, I was most unimpressed that my boyfriend at the time – who was 26 and a restaurant owner – drove a shittier car than me, so we were always cruising around in my Mitzi. I’ve since upgraded cars and men…. wayyyyy upgraded!

    • Reply Danielle February 14, 2015 at 2:21 pm

      ha, I was driving around in whatever my boyfriend had and trust me I’ve ridden in some dumps!

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