
I do not drive. I do not like being behind a wheel. And I refuse to sit behind a wheel of a car that is a piece of shit. For my sixteenth birthday, my parents promised to buy me a Land Rover. I wanted a fairly older one (I like the boxy shape of 2002 Land Rover Discoveries) and they were more than thrilled to save money. I turned 16. No car.
My sister is seventeen months older than me. On her 16th birthday, she received her first car. She has never pumped a single ounce of gas into her car, she has never paid anything in reward to her car – insurance, gas, upkeep, nothing. She crashed her first car. It was a “clear danger,” according to my parents. So, they traded that car, threw down several thousand more and bought her another car. Did she pay anything this time around? Nope. The car, the insurance, the gas – everything, came free. Again.
I’m now seventeen and a few months and I do not even have a car. My parents talk about buying another car. But never talk about buying me a car. And, if, by any means, I get a car, I would have to contribute to insurance and will be expected to pay for my gas and everything else.
At that point, I threw in the white flag and accepted the terms: they weren’t going to get me a car unless I chalk up some cash. I wasn’t going to chalk up any cash – if my sister can get off scotch free for over two and a half years now, I am entitled to receiving the same gratification.
All of my friends drive brand new cars. And I don’t drive. I’ve learned to shrug it off. It makes it easier when they are punctual when I give them a time. I get out of school at 1:40. I expect them to be there no later than that time. My father is on time every day. When it is my mom’s turn to pick me up – all one day a week – she always manages to stroll in late. She’s late. Every single time. Who is to blame? To her, I am to blame. I am to blame because I don’t drive.
I am sick of it. I am sick of paying for everything of mine. I am sick of my sister spending $200 on boots, shirts, and jeans on my mom’s credit card, and the minute I ask for something, it is a no. It is a no because I “could pay for it myself.”
I feel as if I am typing this out of typical, teenage angst. But, am I being really unfair or is this a clear unbalance?