Goodbye my lover, Goodbye my friend

"Sad news today. Dadg1rl is gone"

He wrote the words so effortlessly, that father of mine. I'll tell ya something, dadg1rl would have put a lot more thought into an obituary than that, had roles been reversed. I just know it, that car-she was good to me.

A lot of memory is attached to dadg1rl. In honor of the passing of dadg1rl, I will recount such memories.

Most ancient of memories (year 2003, it had to be) was the day after I taught my dad to text message (what a dinosaur he was). I was in first period French class when I got my dad's first ever text:

"I backed into your car, Sorry."

Thanks dad.

Memory 2 was taking dadg1rl around mean curves without giving the speedometer a chance to ease up. Shantel, a high school bud of mine, would always soundtrack the high speed turns with "weeeee." We thought for sure one day the "weeeees" would stop- that the fast curves were a product of my first year driver inexperience. 6 years down the road (no pun intended), Shan continued to "weeeee."

Disclaimer: dadg1rl kept me safe, regardless of my behind the wheel habits, and such habits never resulted in any sort of accident (except dad's mishap).

A third mem, oh this one is a beaut. Me, Beth (of 2 Girls, 1 backpack), Leah (my mentor of all things sassy), and Meredith (lord knows what I'd insert here) took dadg1rl to the campfire. 4 girls piled into one baby dadg1rl, en route to Lake Lanier, Georgia. It was senior year of high school, and we were packed like sardines (I use this idiom, yet I have no idea what it actually means…). We spent 9 solid hours of cramped-ness to reach our campsite. Best story (or attempted story) of the trip: Beth and I made a soundtrack of animal noises, particularly bears. When we arrived, I sneakily went to the Park Ranger and told him our plan to scare Leah and Meredith (the sissies of the bunch). He came by our site an hour later, and deserved an Oscar for his performance. Even I was beginning to wonder if there honestly was a black bear sighting, and that we really should tie our food up in the tree as he suggested. So in the middle of the night, I got up, went over to dadg1rl, turned on the music (bear noises) and waited for Leah and Meredith to pee their pants. They might be sissy girls, but I will give a hand to their wit. They realized too quickly that it was a digital bear, and basically told me I’m so annoying, they’re sleeping, turn dadg1rl off with those ridiculous noises.

The idea had potential…

Last, though I’ve got loads more- I don’t want to take up too much internet space with this recollection, was in college with my two roommates, Nia and Kelly. Kelly, Nia and I were attached at the hip. If Nia was at Ladies Night at Gator City, the world would be surprised if Kelly and I weren’t enjoying the same free drinks and getting our butts kicked (by Nia) in trivia. Being anything but creeps, we got in the habit of stalking Frat Row- our Sorority house was practically on Frat Row (instead of across campus on Sorority Row). Now you see why I lived there all of college…

Anyways, we’d drive through the Frat Row parking lots checking to see who was home, who was partying and who was doing the walk of shame the next morning. It wasn’t an everyday stalking, but it happened more often then not- and no we’re not ashamed. I’d never want to take dadg1rl stalking. I would get too nervous that people would recognize her, so I made the argument NOT to take dadg1rl anymore on these stalking excursions, and after being asked to justify such an argument, I overconfidently insisted,

“PEOPLE KNOW DADG1RL”

I will never live that down.

Dadg1rl, you will be missed. People will still know and love you, and all the fond memories you are good for. I hope for you the best as you dedicate yourself to the new luckiest driver on the highways of America.

By the way, dadg1rl was my dear car’s vanity plate, to clear up any confusion. I’ll fight any criticism, so leave your sneers to yourself.

Please feel free to leave your fondest dadg1rl memories, or any last words you’d like to share.