My dad bought me a truck when I was 18, a Mazda B2200. It was the first automobile I had ever owned. He bought it for only $250 because every time it is stated it gave off a humongous smoke screen and covered the whole neighborhood. The body was in great shape and it had a grey metallic paint with metal flakes in.
The previous drive smoked cigars, so the interior had a yellowish film everywhere. The cigar residue took two days of scrubbing with full strength Pine sol to remove. All that the exterior needed was to be polished and waxed. My truck looked and smelled brand new by the time I was finished.
Then I added a new stereo with a speaker box that went the entire length of my cab right behind the seats. The radio was so loud that you could hear me coming a block away and with it cranked up it made my heart hurt. In the summer I would sit in the back of the truck and listen to music via the remote.
I was so excited to have my own truck that I would drive it everywhere. I was the oldest member of my group of friends so I always picked up everyone after school. I would usual have a big group of people gather around my truck to listen to the music after school. My friends and I would go cruising everywhere: the beach, the mall, and Seattle. Most of the time the cab was full of people and usually no less then ten people in back We could only go 15-20mph up hills the truck was so weighted down, but we didn’t care as long as the windows were down and the radio was up. I loved that little truck and I was broken hearted when I had to sell it years later. Out of all the vehicles I have owned my truck holds the dearest memories.
