Alexis Molina 

Writing for Magazines  

4-2-19 

Personal Article  

Bad Luck Bruce  

By Alexis Molina 

   

Everyone remembers their first car. It is a right of passage to be handed the keys to a vehicle 

that's all yours. Thinking about it can transport you back to your youth, flooding your mind with 

memories for better or in my case, worse. Americans in particular love their cars and find 

themselves behind the wheel more often than drivers in other countries, according to the Center 

for Urban Transportation Research. When I met Bruce I became one of those Americans.  

On Feb 14, 2018 my grandparents handed me the keys to a midnight blue 2005 Toyota 

Rav4 in pretty decent condition. That was after months of me whining that I was tired of driving 

around my grandfather’s minnie van, a tired, beat up Town and Country (apparently named 

Beatrice) and taking public transportation when Beatrice was not available. My grandparents told 

me they bought it from a woman from their church, she had just divorced her husband and lucky 

for her got to keep both their cars. The Rav4 was hers but since splitting with her husband she 

had gotten into something much nicer. My grandfather being the charmer he was offered her $ 

3,000 and like that the Rav was mine. 

 I had never been more excited to sit in traffic on my way to class. My grandfather and I swore 

cars could have personalities, even souls, so we named them. According to Forbes.com 25 

percent of people name their cars. I decided my car had to have a boys name. I hated how people 

always named cars after girls. I remember questioning my grandfather about it once his reply 

was , ‘’Cars like women can be difficult, they require a lot of attention and care.’’ I almost hated 

his answer more than I hated the practice of naming cars after women, however somehow it 

made sense to me. Being a difficult woman myself, I figured it would probably be bad karma if I 

went with a girl name. Little did I know I would be given a run for my money no matter what 

name I gave him. My grandfather suggested the name Bruce, I was not really into it.  

I sat behind the wheel and instantly felt that connection between man and machine that I had 

heard about in movies. I felt like Lindsay Lohan in ‘’​Herbie: Fully Loaded’’. “You and me are 

gonna have a lot of fun together.’’ I said to him (Yes I talk to my car, he has a soul, remember?) . 

I know I am not alone though. According to komones.com 47 percent of Americans admit to 

talking to inanimate objects. “What do you think about the name Bruce?” You guessed it , I did 

not get a reply, but after a few days of gallivanting, showing off the car to my friends and late 

night cruising with my boyfriend, Bruce stuck.  

I spent my next few paychecks pimping out my ride. I purchased LED lights to install, an 

adapter so I could play music from my phone, a car mount, all kinds of air fresheners, stickers 

and magnets, and even a little Puerto Rican flag to stick on my dash. Our first few months were 

great together and as time passed I only became more and more attached to Bruce. He became 

like a old friend. He was always there for me, even during my first major breakup. I spent a lot of 

time crying into his steering wheel during that period. Bruce didn't seem to mind though.  
 Then came October. Bruce and I got into our first accident , I was following my boyfriend. 

We were on our way back from getting Halal food. We had decided to take two different cars 

that day for some reason. Long story short he stopped short ,and by the time I realized it was two 

late, we collided into each other. My boyfriend's father had to come get us because Bruce was in 

no condition to drive, his front bumper was all busted and his radiator was leaking fluid. My 

boyfriend’s car and the Hala were ok though. Lucky for me I was dating a mechanic’s son. 

Noticing how destreased I was over Bruce, my boyfriend’s father offered to fix the car. Bruce 

was out of commission for a week. Being away from Bruce was hard I had to revisit my days of 

public transportation and borrowing Beatrice. Two weeks after Bruce and I were reunited, we got 

hit again turning left at a yellow light. His front bumper was busted again, but Bruce was 

drivable this time, so he remained unfixed. The third accident of that month happened a few 

days later. A lady in a TD bank parking lot hit my back bumper while pulling out. I know what 

you're thinking , ‘’Oh my god, your insurance!” Well by grace the first accident went unreported 

and even though I was hit the last two times, I learned that New York State has something called 

duel fault. By the end of it I only got enough money to fix a few things on my car, the back light 

most importantly and as for the front bumper. I figured Bruce was gonna have to live with a 

missing chunk from his front for a while. My grandfather tried to reassure me by telling me 

everyone beats up their first car . ‘’This does not happen to everyone’’ I thought, and I was 

right. According to cederberlaw.com, the average person gets into four car accidents in their 

lifetime and I was already on number three. However, nothing could prepare me for the trouble 

Bruce and I would find ourselves in.  

 November was a quiet month for Bruce, now I know it was only because he was waiting for 

December, the month of my 21st birthday, to really let me have it. December 26 after a night of 

celebrating my 21st year of life my boyfriend and I had decided to return to the Air B n B, one 

we had visited a few times, in our favorite neighborhood in Brooklyn.We parked in our usual 

spot and headed upstairs. The next morning we headed back to the car. As for myself all I could 

say was that my exterior reflected my actions of the night before.  

“I don't see the car.’’ my boyfriend said to me.  

‘’What?’’ I replied grogish and severely hungover.  

‘’It’s not there.’’ he said.  

He was right, Bruce was not where we parked. We spent a half an hour walking up and down 

the streets of Brooklyn to make sure we hadn't lost our minds and just lost track of where we 

parked. We then concluded someone must have stolen it. We must have made quite a scene 

walking up and down the street frantically, because a homeless man approached us and siad. “ 

You looking for that little blue car with the chunk missing in the front? Oh yeah they came and 

towed that thing away about six. You folks not from around here huh? Brooklyn's got them 

alternate side of the street parking rules.’’ Mind you we had been to this Air B n B twice before 

and had parked in that same spot. Nevertheless, we called up the nearest impound lot and as fate 

would have it they had Bruce. An hour long Uber ride, a few hours in the DMV and $300 later 

we rescued Bruce.  

A week later I went to a lounge to continue my birthday celebration. I figured I had to get my 

mind off the disaster that was the day following my birthday. After a long night of dancing and 

having a good time, me and my friends headed back to my car, only to find the block we parked 
on was closed up with yellow caution tape. Police surrounded the area, and way down the block 

was Bruce. The officers advised us that a crime had been committed and my Bruce was 

considered part of their crime scene. After begging the police for some information he let us 

know that a man had been stabbed and I wouldn't have access to my car for at least four to five 

hours. Mind you was 3am. After contemplating what to we took a $50 Uber ride home. I had to 

stay the night in my friend’s house because I had decided to leave my house keys in the car. The 

next morning we drove back to the lounge and there was Bruce. No more police, no more yellow 

tape, just Bruce.  

Feb 14, 2019 Bruce and I celebrated our first year together. What a journey it has been, one 

that I will surely never forget. I think it is only fair that I mention how much I do love Bruce 

despite all he has put me through, he’s my very first car and he is reliable when he wants to be. I 

feel like he’s just the guy that always happens to b at the wrong place at the wrong time. It’s 

been about 4 months since Bruce’s last episode. He’s still missing a chunk in the front, but I’m 

set to have that fixed within the next few weeks. Figures crossed that Bruce's bad luck streak has 

finally come to an end. Even if it doesn't we will be in each other's lives for a while. Especially 

since Toyota’s are one of the longest lasting makes of vehicles, and can reach up to 200,00 miles 

and at 17,000 miles Bruce and I have a long way to go.  

  

Alexis Molina is a New York based Adelphi senior and freelance writer.