Your first car.....

The first car that was purchased for me was a late 70s Plymouth Arrow. But my sister ended up with it because I still preferred to ride my 10-speed everywhere.
The first car I actually drove on a regular basis was a 1978 Chevette Scooter. Dark red but with a tan hood. No A/C. I had to buy new floor mats. And eventually, I couldn't control the heat anymore. When it was on, it was on high and there was nothing you could do about it. When it started on a cold day, it would go but at its own pace until it was goddam good and ready. It needed probably 25 minutes to warm up enough to do more than 25 MPH. But that sunovabitch was indestructible. There were probably 100 reasons it shouldn't have made it 2 1/2 more years (I got it in 1985 and dumped in in the summer of '87), but it did.
Next was a Datsun station wagon. Bought it for $800. It got hit one night by a volunteer fireman on his way to a fire on a snowy night (I heard the siren, pulled over, and WHAM!). Got $800 from his insurance company (who did not know he was using his Jeep as an emergency vehicle) for a dent in the side fender that my dad was able to pop out with his hand. Sold it for $800.
The first car I purchased from someone other than a relative, in the summer of 1989, was a 1979 Chevy Malubu. It was made in Canada but it ended up in a lot in Kansas. It had after-market a/c and cruise control. I got about four years out of it.
Then for a while, I drove my dad's El Camino. Most fun thing I've ever driven. If I could afford another one, I'd snatch it right up.

 

My first car... Dad tried to con me into a late 60's Plymouth Fury. It had an automatic transmission with buttons in the dash for 1, 2, D, R. I wasn't having some of that. I should have gone for it in retrospect, because I've slept in beds smaller than the backseat of that thing.

I tried to buy a buddy's '56 Chevy. His dad owned a gas station and he had hopped it up. Electric blue metallic paint, a big block V8, three speed. Dad went with me to look at it, and when the guy started the car he just stood there and listened to it. "Got a cam in it?" "Yessir." He looked at me and said, "Like hell you're getting that car, you'll kill yourself." Dad was a smart guy.

I wound up with a 1971 Austin American, a British car that was similar to the old school Minis. 1197 CC engine (yes, a rousing 1.2 liters) and a four speed, front wheel drive. It had no acceleration but it cornered really well as long as you had stayed on the gas. I drove it off about a fifteen foot embankment trying to stay with a friend's Corvette on what was (unbeknownst to me) about a 270 degree turn. Took out the top of a pine tree, flew across a driveway and into a tree, then burned up everything in front of the trunk, including most of my notes from school. Flunked my chemistry final because of that.

Lucky I wasn't killed. Not a scratch on me.

 

Which trailer is yours?

 

1976 Ford maverick. No heater, but it could haul ass.

 

1956 Caddy. Robin's egg blue with over 100K on it. Got it from friends of my parents. Would've demolished a Sherman tank in a one-on-one, so I guess my folks thought I'd be safe. I was, too, until it gave up the ghost seven months into my ownership.

 

A schoolmate and neighbor of mine owned a white 1979 Ford Fairlane. She drove us to school every day during my senior year. It was a death trap. The only door that still opened was one of the front ones (right passenger, I think). I was amazed the thing still ran.

 

Per word response, this has to rank right up there with any other thread. First cars, man, some lucid, emotional memories. Good stuff

 

The one on the left. The white one is my cousin's old place. He rents it out though. My dad hates the guy that lives there.

 

I had to change a tire for driver's ed and my mom signed off on it (and my parents weren't of the type who would just sign off on stuff if I hadn't done it). I do call up my roadside assistance for when I've needed a tire changed though. I'm a fairly small woman and I know I could do it, I'm just concerned about my ability to get the lugnuts off and then get them retightened properly. So I'll just let the service do it. As @wicked said, I pay for roadside assistance for a reason.

 

Roadside help is good especially if you are on a spot where changing a tire is dangerous. But if you're worried about loosening/tightening the lugnuts, if you have a pole about 3 feet long of either hard plastic or a light metal (basically something that won't bend) that you can keep in your car. Put the pole on the lug wrench and it will act as a lever and make it significantly easier to adjust the lugnuts.

 

Or just stomp the shit out of the lug wrench until the lugs loosen. That's what I do. Works like a charm.

 

I did that once. Ten stitches to the big toe and a sadistic old nurse hag who smirked at me as she jammed the Novacaine needle directly into the gash. Holy shit, hot fire. ... So my advice is to wear shoes if you're gonna stomp on that sucker.