Ah, yes, the American Millennial. Here, you can see you can see her grazing in her natural habitat. Observe as she slumps into the chair and devours a single cup of grapes. Fascinating isn’t it?
The millennial that you are observing is me. You can distinguish me from other American sub-species (such as the boomer or the gen-z) by noting my love of avocados and my paired abilities of read an analog clocks and making it to the top of a staircase. Truly, I am a marvel.
I, like every millennial, run on a mixture of dirt-cheap foods and fanciful dreams. Yes, I have most of the usual dreams. I dream of owning a house one day, of paying off my student loans, of having a successful and filling career, of adopting a pet dragon.
All of these, I know are obtainable. Sadly, my greatest dream may not be. It may sound stupid, but, what I want, more than anything in the world, is to own a car that has air conditioning.
I can hear you all laughing from here.
Listen, I know it a reach, but every time I slide into my Hyundai Sona, I fantasize about reaching up, touching the AC nob, and actually feeling cold air rush out. In my wildest fantasies, there isn’t even a weird smell in the vents.
The first car I bought was a simple Mercury Sable. One of those cars that you look at and ask “is that a color?” That boat took me all over the nation. Windows down, I survived Arkansas summers. Windows up, I survived an RV unloading its sewage on me in St. Paul. I never questioned the cars lack of AC until I found myself carting all of my personal belongings down I-40 as I moved to East Tennessee.
The first few hours of the trip felt like any other. Then, I hit Nashville traffic. If you don’t know what Nashville traffic is, picture LA traffic, then, throw in some guitars and dip. You have the picture.
In Nashville, my car had to actually stop.
The heat in the pavement sensed my vulnerable position and crept up to meet the new pray. I barely made it out of the city before the heat pounced.
On that day, I vowed that I would save up enough for an upgrade.
For the next year I worked hard, living on a fiscal vegetarian diet (that’s fancy for “I could only afford rice”) and walking everywhere.
I saved every penny I could save and sacrificed friendships to stay inside away from temptations of the wallet.
Then, something in me changed. A revelation hit me like a drunk woman who’d stolen a car.
Actually, it wasn’t revelation. It was just the car that drunk woman stole. Also, it didn’t actually change me, it just bent the back half of my car in two.
Insurance covered nothing.
The car couldn’t be traded in.
The only lot in town that would take my measly savings was a sketchy lot hewn out of a cliff on top of a hill.
You know what they were fresh out of? Cars with air conditioning.
So, now, it’s a 100 degree day in Missouri, and I’m resting after a long day of driving around and running errands in my 2006 Huyundia Sona with black interior, and I’m dreaming big. This millennial has #goals.
I would say “don’t rain on my parade,” but, honestly, I’ll take the rain.
So, tell me, what are your chimerical goals?