Carrot? Heathcliff? Human Torch?
I'm not alone in the vehicle naming thing. Bestest names all of her vehicles, too. I've named everything I've ever owned, from bikes to cars. I even named a skateboard I owned as a kid. His name was "Speedy." I rode it twice. The first time I rode it was riding downhill on my belly like Superman. The second time I rode it was downhill standing up like a dumbass. I hit a very tiny pebble and then I was flying through the air like Superman, but not as graceful. I might have been wearing my underwear on the outside, though. I did that sometimes. I changed the name of my skateboard from "Speedy" to "Old Shitty" I also changed the sex from male to female. My problems with women go all the way back there. Sorry ladies.
My next vehicle was a bike. I named him "Silver" after the Lone Ranger's horse. I tried to jump Silver through the window of one of my friend's bedrooms. It didn't work. Silver was my main stunt bike. I jumped that bastard over ramps, ditches, off a wall once, onto the hood of my mom's car, and once right into the Eno River. My next two bikes, Magnum and The General Lee, reflected two things: TV shows I liked and a very serious lack of originality.
Then, I got Mary Ann. My first real car. Mary Ann was a primer grey '78 Cutlass that my dad bought for about $200 and then fixed up himself. I named her Mary Ann because she wasn't dolled up like most of my friends' cars. She wasn't even properly painted. I thought she was more Mary Ann than Ginger. Mary Ann (the car) got a lot of action. If CSI did some DNA testing in there...Let me just say this. Don't give a 16 year old boy an 8-cylinder steel beast as a car unless you want to risk bringing home grandchildren!
I had a red Ford Tempo named Endora. If you have any idea where that comes from then congratulations. No one got got it at the time.
I had a white Geo Storm that I bought with my buddy Tony. Why would my giant ass by a tiny Storm, you ask? Because Tony's white and he bought a black one. I'm black and I bought a white one. Get it? Get it? Ah, Air Force, I miss not being responsible for anything other than the safety of a bunch of nukes. Everything else was carefree and laissez faire. But not the nukes.
I named the Storm, I shit you not, "Whitey". I hit a deer with it, had it repaired, painted it blue and then called it "The Storm." Our relationship was never the same.
My greatest ride was a huge green Chevy Blazer that I named Beverly because by this time any name I could come up with reminded me of a girl I knew and not in a good way. But I didn't know any Beverly's at the time so I could say the name without cringing.
A silver bike that I named Leslie, after the silver-haired Leslie Nielsen.
A old black Honda Civic that I named Harriet after Harriet Tubman because the car was old and black and Harriet Tubman was old and black (though, honestly, I don't know how old Mrs Tubman was at her heyday. And would you call the transporting of more than 70 slaves and being the first woman to lead an armed assault a "Heyday"?)
A sleek new road bike that I call Blue Thunder. Guess what color it is.
And now, an orange 50cc scooter. Marigold? Lava? Garfield? Orangie?
Orange things are stupid. Except my scooter, which is actually pretty bad ass. Or, "adorbs" as my Bestest calls it. I'll take it. I just need to name it.
Vulcan? Hephaestus? Kool-Aid? Sunkist?
Gonna go spend the next three days thinking about every orange thing I can!