The only "vehicles" I've had were bikes. A few months ago, I salvaged through my basement and found my old bike. I figured that It would be a mature bike and easy to repaint, but it wasn't. It was a sparkly silver with purple and black all over it. On it's body the word "topaz" was spray painted purple in a hoe-ish fashion. It also had glittery streamers shooting out of the handles. It was like if a bike could be prostitute. It had extremely flat wheels and she was desperate. It had become clear to me that she had had better experiences in her heyday. I was filled with utter disgust when I saw her and memories of when I first received her came flooding over me.
I had gotten her when I was about 9 and I didn't like her then either. I had wanted a blue and black bicycle, but instead the gods cursed me with this monstrosity. Looks aside, size was a huge problem. She was too big and tall for me. I was a short thing and it was hard to sit on her because I had to kick my leg up high and it hurt. There were times where we nearly fell on the floor. Everyone gazed upon her with sheer jealousy and awe, while I had to stifle my true feelings and lie. We did have one fun ride, though. We went to the empty parking lot of a school. The school wasn't that far from where we lived, but it took forever because it was so hard to fit her into the trunk. I ended up riding in that lot for almost 3hours. I was having fun but it was so hard to control her and her seat was extremely hard and uncomfortable. We almost hit peoples cars and rode into the street. Oh my! I was so upset when we had to stop.
The memory ended and I still was looking at her. I tried her anyway to see if she was worth it. But her wheels were so flat and her seat was extremely hard that it hurt my genitalia. I quickly got off to avoid injury and I informed my mother that I didn't want her and I was going to get a replacement. She looked so forlorn, but I didn't care as I was still upset with her. She stayed downstairs for awhile until the men with their big truck came and took her away with the other things. I had donated her and I didn't want to look back, but now I can't help but to wonder how she felt. Did she feel betrayed even though our relationship was brief? Did she want one more chance at fixing our already crumbled affair? Did she want me to spend time with her and fix her up so she could show me what she was like in her heyday? Has she gone insane as a result? There are so many things to think about, but the longer my thoughts linger the more I feel guilty. Hopefully, she has found someone to properly appreciate her like I couldn't, which is why I gave her up....
Anyway, I've moved on and I'm now looking for a new bicycle:)
Do you resent your vehicle?
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The only "vehicles" I've had were bikes. A few months ago, I salvaged through my basement and found my old bike. I figured that It would be a mature bike and easy to repaint, but it wasn't. It was a sparkly silver with purple and black all over it. On it's body the word "topaz" was spray painted purple in a hoe-ish fashion. It also had glittery streamers shooting out of the handles. It was like if a bike could be prostitute. It had extremely flat wheels and she was desperate. It had become clear to me that she had had better experiences in her heyday. I was filled with utter disgust when I saw her and memories of when I first received her came flooding over me.
I had gotten her when I was about 9 and I didn't like her then either. I had wanted a blue and black bicycle, but instead the gods cursed me with this monstrosity. Looks aside, size was a huge problem. She was too big and tall for me. I was a short thing and it was hard to sit on her because I had to kick my leg up high and it hurt. There were times where we nearly fell on the floor. Everyone gazed upon her with sheer jealousy and awe, while I had to stifle my true feelings and lie. We did have one fun ride, though. We went to the empty parking lot of a school. The school wasn't that far from where we lived, but it took forever because it was so hard to fit her into the trunk. I ended up riding in that lot for almost 3hours. I was having fun but it was so hard to control her and her seat was extremely hard and uncomfortable. We almost hit peoples cars and rode into the street. Oh my! I was so upset when we had to stop.
The memory ended and I still was looking at her. I tried her anyway to see if she was worth it. But her wheels were so flat and her seat was extremely hard that it hurt my genitalia. I quickly got off to avoid injury and I informed my mother that I didn't want her and I was going to get a replacement. She looked so forlorn, but I didn't care as I was still upset with her. She stayed downstairs for awhile until the men with their big truck came and took her away with the other things. I had donated her and I didn't want to look back, but now I can't help but to wonder how she felt. Did she feel betrayed even though our relationship was brief? Did she want one more chance at fixing our already crumbled affair? Did she want me to spend time with her and fix her up so she could show me what she was like in her heyday? Has she gone insane as a result? There are so many things to think about, but the longer my thoughts linger the more I feel guilty. Hopefully, she has found someone to properly appreciate her like I couldn't, which is why I gave her up....
Anyway, I've moved on and I'm now looking for a new bicycle:)
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Anonymous Post Author
10 years ago
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That was a very deep and moving story. Thank you for sharing that with me :)
I think you did the right thing too.
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Avant-Garde
10 years ago
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My pleasure:)