I didn’t have my first car until after college, when I was in school to get my teaching credential. Given to me by my sister, it was a used 2003 Toyota Corolla. I was able to use it for approximately 2 years to get to Cal State Fullerton, volunteer, hang out with friends, and go to Phil’s BBQ. That was until, like any first relationship, it died on me.
At one point while driving on the road, the car suddenly stopped running as I was exiting the freeway in Irvine. It was super odd, but I was able to quickly restart the engine. I went to the Vietnamese mechanic who told me they didn’t know what was wrong with the car, and all they did was put some electrical tape somewhere in the compartment. Before moving to Las Vegas in 2014, I asked the Vietnamese mechanics to check it again to make sure it was alright for a 4-hour journey. They said it was.
And then…. on the way to Vegas, as I moving to live in a new city with no family or friends, the head gasket blew up on me in Barstow and smoke started coming out of the engine. Seeing as the car repair would cost about 2000, well over the price of the car, I went ahead and bought a new used car on the spot, signaling the death of my first car. My car salesman must have made a ton of commission that day, seeing how desperate I was. He did buy me lunch and helped me move my stuff from car to car, but I’m guessing I more than paid for that service.
I’ll always remember that car. Life lesson learned – never trust Vietnamamese mechanics. Now I only go to dealerships for repairs even though it is way more expensive…
