Kianna Dior is a beautiful woman who likes expensive things. She appreciates fine dining, luxurious resorts, and powerful automobiles. Her hair is always beautifully coiffed, her hands perfectly manicured, and she loves designer clothing. When I stand next to her I look like a trashy homeless chick. Still, I pull myself together when I have to do a shoot although that's about the only time I wear makeup and heels. The other day Kianna and I were supposed to shoot together at 9AM at Mike Raffone's studio, but my morning took an unexpected turn. My car had needed to go to the mechanic and I came in the door an hour late muttering excuses. I was wearing old sweats and my hair up in a bun. Mike asked me how long it would take me to make myself look presentable. I requested that he give me 15 minutes and I headed into his bathroom. Kianna came in and watched me applying makeup one-handed as I spoke to my mechanic on the phone. The mechanic promised to call me back as soon as he could give me an estimate.

We were about one hour into our shoot when the mechanic called with the news. "It's time to make a decision." he informed me. He explained that my car had just passed the 100,000 mile mark and had some major problems. It needed a new transmission, a new timing belt, and a bunch of other stuff. He sighed and told me that the repairs would probably total about $3500. I almost fell onto Mike's teal sofa when I heard that."Basically, it just depends on how long you want to keep the car." he said in summation. "These repairs may actually be more expensive than the value of the car itself."

I told him I'd think about everything and call him back. Kianna had heard my side of the conversation and saw how deflated I looked when I hung up.

"Just donate it to charity." she said.

I looked down disconsolately and told her that it would be really hard for me to part with my car. My 1998 VW and I have gone through a lot together. I had bought it in 2001 and could remember zooming around the highways in it even before the fabric of the seats was ripped to shreds and the rear-view mirror had fallen off. When I had glued the mirror back on it felt like new again, even though I'd never actually been inside it when it was new. The VW had never once been towed anywhere because it had never completely broken down on me. We had both survived without a single scratch even when one of the tires had blown out at 75 MPH on the freeway. I remember losing control, clinging to the steering wheel, and plowing over the side of the freeway into an embankment filled with ice plant. My friend Raul had driven out at midnight to find me and help change the tire and get the VW back onto the actual pavement. When he finally located me I was lying on top of the hood staring up at the stars. None of the traffic on the freeway could even see me because the VW and I had rolled too far downhill and out of sight. The VW and I were a team through good times and bad.

Kianna started to giggle when I began telling her all this. I knew what she was thinking and I don't like it when people make fun of my trusty old car. Mike was watching the situation unfold and had become uncharacteristically quiet. He and I may not agree on much, but Mike knows the folly of abandoning a loyal friend, whether it be machine or human. He knew me well enough to realize that I would not tolerate someone mocking my devotion to my vehicle. I could tell by both his expression and his firm grip on his camera that he was waiting for carnage to ensue. I did not disappoint him."I'll get another 100,000 miles out of that VW! Watch me you stuck-up, pretentious bitch!" I screamed at Kianna as I smacked her in the face. Amazingly, she still continued to laugh and that just made me angrier..


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- XXOO Tanya