I don’t think a lot of people would go through the trouble of naming things that don’t move and don’t talk but here I am, six years later and still trying to name my elderly car. I don’t think I have ever went through so much trouble to name anything because well, whatever I name that object, it won’t go like I don’t like it or pick a different name. Anyway, eventually, I just gave up and called my car by a simple name. Just read on.
Just like all guys thinks their car is a “she”, I think my car is a “he”. For most of the six years I had the car, I called him baby. I know that’s not a real name but in my mind, it seemed to bring it comfort and run for a bit longer, almost like a placebo effect. For a while, I called it Sammy thinking I’ve found a proper name. I have no idea why I have chosen that name other than it reminded me of my cousin Sam or at least that’s what he calls himself.
It didn’t seem to like it or maybe my mind was playing tricks on me but my car suddenly felt like it was constantly going to break down on me. I guess my car likes to be cooed. Fine Fine, I told it. I’ll go back to calling you baby, happy? It seemed to be but then it did break down on me just a few weeks ago.
Anyway, I don’t name all of my things. If I could, I would have so much trouble coming up with names for my fictional characters.