Don’t touch my Dart

Don’t touch my Dodge Dart. No seriously, don’t you dare touch it because the car might crumble into tiny scraps of metal and motor.

I purchased the new-to-me car at the beginning of December after I accepted the editor position at Yellow Scene. Being car illiterate, I walked into the dealership in New Castle, Indiana and laid it all out. “I’m moving across the country. My PT Cruiser won’t make it. I wan’t something cheap and easy on gas.”

“Let’s look at some used Dodge Darts,” the salesman said. “It’s your best bet.”

At the time I thought he was right. The sleek, silver car with bright red racing stripe interior made me feel like I could walk onto the cast of Fast and Furious. I was pleased with the price, the handling, the perks of owning a Dart. I mean, it had a back up cam which would come in handy while trying to parallel park in Denver.

I made the perfect decision. Until I started my 16 hour drive to Colorado and the Dart broke down in Columbia, Missouri and left me stranded for two days. The internal computer failed with only 19,000 miles on the 2013 car. Praise the gods that the car was covered under warranty. I was naive enough to believe that the tiny hiccup would be the last of my Dart problems.

So I went on my merry way and made it to Colorado, and I was thankful for the highway mileage and easy navigation with the built in GPS system. It was bliss.

That bliss was broken two weeks ago when the fragile Dart shut down once again and refused to move up a tiny hill. Car illiterate, I sent it to the shop once again with no idea of what was wrong. I just knew that I wouldn’t be making it to Roll Denver, or any of my other weekend plans.

Turns out, there was a massive failure in my transmission at only 21,000 miles. (Again, thank the gods it’s under warranty.) So, now as I sit here driving a loaner car and waiting for my Dart to be up and running, I’m hoping the mechanical wizards fix her up real nice.

Until I’m comfortable driving her around, do not touch my Dart.