We said goodbye to our 1992 Geo Metro yesterday. We sold it on Craigslist to a mechanic who seems to collect early 90s Geos and patch the working parts together into a kind of Frankenstein Geo. Or that was my understanding anyway.
We had the car for about a year and now we’re officially a one-car family again. I suppose if you’re going to have two cars for only a year, the year you move is a good year to do it.
It’s kind of sad to see the little car go. It was fun to drive (for me anyway) and was convenient to have. Plus it had a lot of shared history. But alas, it wasn’t worth sinking money into. As is, I think we ended up breaking even on the car, or possibly making some profit (which will be funneled into our adoption fund).
My favorite Geo memory would have to be the time I had to pick a business client up at the airport while driving the Geo. The passenger’s side door stuck and I couldn’t seem to get it open, so I just moved the passenger’s seat all the way forward and opened the back door.
The client rode in the backseat and I felt like a chauffeur driving a clown car (due to the size of the car, not the nature of the client). It didn’t help that it was mid summer and I had to switch off the air conditioning at every stoplight so the car wouldn’t die.
A close second for favorite memory would be the time someone tried to steal the radio in the middle of the night and failed. The radio was one of the after-market jobs with a removable faceplate (which we failed to remove, much like we failed to lock the doors). But the radio didn’t fit the enormous hole left by the factory radio. A wooden panel had even been inserted in the dash to fill up part of the hole. Yet our enterprising thief couldn’t manage to pry the radio free, despite its less than professional installation, the fact that it was the dead of night and said criminal probably had all the time in the world, and the fact that a simple screwdriver would have done the job. The thief snuffed out his cigarette on the floorboard and gave up, presumably in disgust. Or a drunken stupor.