They sold my car today.

It wasn’t my first car. My first car was a box-type Lancer, that I put up with in college. I wasn’t as fond of that car as I am of this one. The floor had rusted away, leaving holes that you could look through. Not so good when you’re driving in Metro Manila, when all it takes is a sudden rainstorm to cause traffic-stopping floods. It didn’t even have a stereo, so I made do by hooking up my Discman to battery-powered speakers. I learned the few jPop CDs I had by heart.

No, I remember the day I got my Warmachine, which is what the First Mate lovingly calls it. It was second-hand, bought from my dad’s best friend who was meticulous when it came to car care. White, gleaming, 1.8L engine under the hood. We’ve been through a lot together, my first date with my future wife, my first road trips with friends, my first court hearing. It was the car I would drive to Marikina in to rent anime. Good times, bad times, the Warmachine saw me through it all.

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