My Indian Car Story

The readers of my blog don't understand what an "indian car" is, but I can almost guarantee that every reader of the column knows what an "indian car" is. We have all seen them, people barely chugging away, windows busted out because someone was caught cheating. Which is fine in the summer, but in the winter time, then you hang your pretty blanket to serve as a curtain. Just yesterday I saw a man climbing out of his window like he was on Dukes of Hazard at the grocery store. Then he had a sock tying his door to the car so it didn't fly open, I was thinking, why don't he just untie the sock to get out?

Anyway, I have had my fair share of "Indian cars." Like the one whose tranny gave out because my ex Carter didn't know we needed to put tranny fluid in, I admit, I didn't know either. We flew that car home in Rapid through the alleys and with me hollering GO! Then we would shoot across the street backwards. We also bought a car, took it home and it wouldn't work after we got home. The man we bought it from, pulls into our place and looks under the hood, we didn't even have a belt but we still bought it. I have had my share of Inidian cars, none that I would evr ride in a parade with a mask on, like I saw one guy do, at least it was never that bad until we lived in Minnesota.

I had just had my son Jalen and Carter had just gotten a paycheck. We was walking from my place to my mom's when in someone's driveway there it was. The ugliest car I ever laid eyes on. It was green, which is normally my favorite color, but this was the shade of that chick's vomit on The Exorcist. It had weird shaped headlights and taillights. Like none I ever saw before. It also had a sign that ssaid FOR SALE $250. I knew his check was just a little over that and I was like "oh no....there goes my number 5 value meal."

So the guy that sold it to Carter said it was a good runner and they were both worked up over this car and the engine. I just kept looking at it with disgust. No. That was all I kept thinking. No. It had rust spots the size of Texas and there was no way I was gonna ride in that thing. Next thing I know they are shaking hands and he gives the keys to Carter. I am still saying NO in my head as I get in the passenger seat.

The car had carpet samples in the front instead of floor mats and when you moved them you could see the road underneath moving. The windshield wipers didn't work so we had to each sacrifice a shoestring when we discovered they didn't work in the rain. The car was awful, we was the only Indians in Red Wing, Minnesota with a crappy car. One day we were stopped in it, in the wintertime, with no heat, of course. The cops had us pulled over for over an hour with a newborn. The car was not insured, of course because insurance was more than the car it self. So on that sad winterday they took away the ugliest car in the world. I said a littl prayer of thanks as Carter watched his hot rod go away with sadness. We both knew the towing fee, storage fee and impound fee was 3 times what he paid for it.

At the moment my car is not an Indian car. I am still waiting for the title so it can't leave the rez. Oh, and it smokes because I need to get the gaskets covers fixed. But other than that it's fine. I have to listen to Eddie Rabbit's Greatest Hits which is a GREAT cassette if you haven't heard it, because my antenna fell off. But if you stop and want to listen to KILI, you can put a curtain rod on the antenna part and it's all good, as long as you don't move. But it still looks good, so there.

There is my "Indian car" story.