Last night sucked.

I went back to my parent's house after work to pick up my Camaro. We drove it back into Peoria. My dad has a friend who owns a car lot, so he had a heated garage that we were going to use to take care of everything wrong with Cammy, and clean her up a little to get her ready for her big day on Saturday.

I spent a few hours taking out all the junk I left in there, replacing my CD player with the stock cassette, cleaning the nooks and crannies with toothpicks... things that happen when a car has been sitting in storage for 4 months.

As I was cleaning, it finally hit me. This is the last time I will be cleaning my beautiful Camaro.

Now, you have to understand how much I love this car. It's called a 3rd generation Camaro, and that generation started when I was 2 years old. I remember when I was a kid, looking out the window and seeing a Camaro or IROC and wanting one really badly. 10 years later, I got my wish.

Not only that, but it made working on cars fun. It was something I could do with my dad. Sure, I've fixed cars with him before, but I always hated doing it and would do a crappy job, just to get it done quickly, spending as little money as possible. Cammy was different.

I used to drive her around, and people would taunt me to race. It felt good to kick their ass, but it felt even better to look over at them and laugh, because they even thought they were competition. People at gas stations and car washes would ask me questions about it, and other Camaro drivers would nod as I went by. I'll miss that. A lot.

As we were finishing, I was going to drive by the car wash and spray her off one last time. I was applying the spot free rinse or whatever it's called when it finally hit me. Cammy will be gone tomorrow. Gone to Ohio.

So, it wasn't a happy night for me.

I'll miss you Cammy. Have fun with your new owner.

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