Hyperjes tends to name our vehicles. Currently we have:
Yertle (the Turtle) - 1990 Gray Dodge Colt (her brother put a 4x4 sticker on the back. People do actually ask if our Dodge Colt is a 4x4 :D) and Sprocket (the Rocket) - 1991 Blue Geo Storm (she wanted to name it Jetson, but I hate that cartoon. Sprocket sounded good to me.) hyperjes says Sprocket is a boy, I’ve always thought of her as my girl. Let’s just say the vehicle is confused.
Previously owned were Tink(erbell) (1989 baby blue Dodge Shadow - murdered by being backed into), The Pornstar (1992 maroon Dodge Shadow - murdered in the ass), and Morgain (le Fey) (1989 Ford Escort - died of semi-natural causes, named as such because she was a total bitch).
When talking to others, I refer to my car as “EZ Bake” or “The oven”. Most people already know what I’m talking about - it’s a small black car with a dark interior and no air conditioning. But I don’t really think of it as a name, just what it is.
My mum had a pale blue Panda called Amanda. Witty.
Almost totally irrelevant story:
When I was on holiday ths summer a group of us went out for the evening in a minibus. We discovered that the bus had an amazingly loud microphone (for tours or something). We parked in a crowded carpark outside a bowling alley and all trooped off towards the building leaving one guy lying across the front seat. Once we were well away he started shouting into the microphone, pretending the bus was KIT, shouting that it hadn’t been locked and that someone had farted and made the bus smell. It was cool.
I’ve never named any of my cars (although my friends tried to name my current blue car “The Tick”) but my parents named a car that they gave to me “Phyllis” after the friend of theirs from whom they bought it. When I got the car before my current car to replace Phyllis, I threw a going-away party at work for Phyllis to mock the various potlucks and shit that people had for every conceivable occasion. Only a few people knew that Phyllis was my car so I drove people nuts trying to figure out who Phyllis was. The day of I brought in a cake that said “Good Luck Phyllis, You Were a Great Car” and people still didn’t get it.
2003 Toyota Corolla, it’s mom’s but I use it too, is named Hooks for the little black female cop in the “Police Academy” movies. Remember how she would say “excuse me” all squeaky and meek? That’s what the horn on this car reminds me of.
My friend’s 89 Grand Marquis is aptly called Banana Boat.
I have a purple 1996 Pontiac Sunfire that I named Phoenix.
My previous car, Max, was always overheating and pouring smoke out from under his hood toward the end of his life. I figured that if Phoenix burst into flames, she would at least rise from her own ashes.
My first real car, a '68 pale green Mustang, was named Wren (after my favorite movie’s lead character in Footloose – hey, I was in high school, what can I say, although I still like it now) officially, but I never called her that much.
My most recent vehicle, a blue '86 Jeep Waggoner is named Phannie because she was bought on Halloween and is a tribute to another all-time favorite movie, Phantasm. She doesn’t get called that much either.
However, my folks owned a Toyota Corolla back in the 80s nicknamed the Green Bean and that was the ONLY way we ever referred to that car. Similarly, they now have a used RV called Turtle (because it’s so friggin’ slow) and, yep, that’s how it is addressed. Go figure.
I don’t drive yet myself, but I’ve named my parents’ previous two cars. Max was first, and clearly male, and Maxine (who we still have around) was second, and clearly female.
A friend of mine also asked me to name her car, so now she drives a red piece of shit named Richard.
Bought myself a little silver '86 Hyundai Pony, named it Pegasus.
Dad didn’t like Pegasus. Gave me the car I actually learned to drive on. Named her Bessie when I was 16. (White '86 Honda Civic)
As for talking to them, I have always smooth-talked Bessie, who has always responded positively. Pegasus is a mythical creature who does not deign to serve mortals. 'Nuff said.
I had actively decided that my car wasn’t going to have a name. And then discovered, on the drive out from PA to KS, that her name is Maggie. Good to know, really. She’s a 2000 blue/gray/purpleish Nissan Sentra.
