Last spring, I lost my first car, which was parked, to a fire sent by Mother Nature… at least, I hope. Now, maybe there weren’t any car chunks flying, but with the rising flames, firefighters and Snapchat story memes, I’d say that must count for something.   

If you were on campus, you probably heard of it, saw it or smelt it, especially in Sweeney Hall. Nine in the morning, I woke up to a pounding at my dorm door. Peering out of my room into the dark common area, I watch as my two roommates open the door, highlighting the badge of the officer in the doorway.  

Stiff and serious, “Does anyone own a black car,” he asked. As the blood drained from my face, I immediately knew. How? Well, earlier, amid my beautifully bed-headed slumber. I looked at my phone with half-asleep hysteria to a picture of a burning car my best friend sent me off the CMU Class of 2027 Snapchat story. The funny thing is she didn’t realize it was mine either.  

With my wild mane of hair, I step into the light to face my newfound reality. Halfway down the steps, we stopped; the officer wanted to debrief me on what I was about to see. Complete shock. 

Smoke blazing, rain dripping, multiple people standing around and firefighters still hosing it down, my car was as burnt as a turkey on Thanksgiving. I don’t know what I expected, but this car was totaled. I can already hear you through the page— How! What if I told you—no one exactly knows.  

It was under the assumption of electrical, but there was no hard-proven fact of what it was. I did have my car worked on throughout the year. The usual couple of jump starts I never needed before— fun! My car, Bobby, was surprisingly reliable… until now. And yes, I named my car.  

It wasn’t until this year I had the worst luck of my life. I mean, it wasn’t even just the car at that point. My best friend left school, I over-worked myself getting three hours of sleep a night, I almost fainted from stress, my Busia (grandma) died, I was depressed and to top it off, you know this one, my car blew up!  

At this point, I barely reacted when hearing about it; a cherry on top this was. I remember hearing something that while you’re away at college, anything that could go wrong with your car will. I don’t think they thought this extreme ahead, but it was still a hell of a foreshadowing of how many times my car stalled, whether before needing to go somewhere or WHILE DRIVING IT. I barely got beyond the parking lot that time I drove it… but it was smack dab in the middle of a MASSIVE TOUR GROUP staring at me. You’d imagine, with all those dads, they would think to help or at least say something helpful; nope, just gawking at my seem-to-be circus show.  

“If you look to your left, you’ll see a great big field ahead of Fabiano Hall, perfect for playing, studying and lounging. But don’t look left to the clueless girl getting her car towed,” I imagined as the tour guide’s response. 

I had gotten a new battery— it stalled. I had gotten another one AND my alternator fixed by an auto repair shop that promised it was all good— it blew up.  

Luckily, no one was hurt, and it didn’t damage the cars next to it too badly; the next-door neighbors were a bit melted. 

Now, while I don’t know what happened, one thing I do know is that day, I was going to reward myself with some Chipotle. I guess Chipotle didn’t want me there. That might have been the worst part of the day. I REALLY wanted a chicken bowl with white rice, extra sour cream, hot sauce, lettuce and pico de gallo, alright.  

However, one thing I am glad about is that it didn’t decide to pull a Katy Perry “Firework” on me while I was driving it because I’d otherwise resemble an Alicia Keys original, “Girl on Fire.”  

Luckily, now I have a new car, Terry, and he doesn’t give me I’m going to blow up on you vibes, so let’s hope this year starts out strong. Then again, Bobby never gave me those vibes either.