30 Day Writing Challenge

DAY 21

Day 21 —Find a job ad in the paper.  Write about your life if you had that job.

(A/N: My paper jobs were boring so I am instead doing something based on a song; [It's country, sorry.] Rodney Atkins- Farmers Daughter. BUT- I am not taking the entire thing (where is the challenge in that?!) just the base of the song, with a modern twist.)

-

When you're 18 years old and don't have a car- the one thing on your mind is getting one. Unfortunately, that wasn't so easy for me. As the oldest child in my family of 3, my mom's teaching salary hardly bought the milk- if you know what I mean. So me getting a Mustang wasn't in the cards. So I decided to stack the deck. My name is Carson Reynolds, and this is the story of how I fell in love. 

As a kid, I wanted to be just like my dad, a mechanic, and a father. I still admire him 6 years after his death, I still see him sitting behind the wheel of his (now my moms) Ford. He was simple, but he was strong; he loved, but he fought. That's what I wanted to be like, I wanted my Ford Mustang and I wanted to know how to fix it up too. Call me simple, but I don't see what's so bad about being simple. 

So at 16, I drove my mother to work in her Ford, and drove around Brownsville, Georgia looking for a job. After burning through half a tank of my moms gas, I decided to stop at a station. This is where my life began. 

Conveniently, this station was also my dream job. It had 4 cars lifted in the air, and 3 men were working on them, a small, red HELP WANTED sign was propped on the door. I walked in, and long story short; got the job. 

You probably don't want to hear about how I got my gas free, or how for the first two weeks I worked on motors and was trained more tricks than I knew I could learn. You probably want to hear about her. 

Her name was Fayett Young, and she was my bosses daughter. The thing that caught my eye about her wasn't the fact she was tan, with long black hair, but that she knew how to navigate through the entire mechanical system of a car. One time, I saw her take almost every part of the car off, paint it, bang in any dents, clean it, and then put it back together! 

Then I knew it, the car she had taken apart and made even more beautiful was the one I dreamed off, but I didn't just want the car: I wanted the girl who perfected it.