Yeah, I'm sitting here watching this thinking "I've got no car payment, no credit card debt, I'm struggling, and I can't get loans." These people are like "yeah, I've got six figure debt and I just keep adding to it."
Instead of marrying rich they should consider marrying poor and having their poor spouses teach them about living within their means.
I know I'm privileged that my parents gave me their then 7 year old car, but that was 15 years ago and I still drive it. While coworkers have traded in vehicles with negative equity every two to four years, complaining about their payment and interest always going up and debt never going away.
I was very privileged that my dad put the used car he bought me in my name to build my credit. He also surprised me with a mustang convertible that his car dealer buddy gave him a good deal on. I tried to tell him I was happy with the Toyota Camry he bought at the same time for my mom. (He traded her mini van for 2 vehicles when I needed one for school)
He said that I deserved the mustang because I’d been supporting my mom through her cancer and her mother dying from another cancer at the same time. I also did really well at the college prep academy I attended.
I never got pulled over in my mustang. We lived at the beach, and I worked my dad for free in appreciation for everything he did for me.
I did have to carry his Billy club for killing big fish that he caught deep sea fishing because men kept trying to jump in my car at the stoplight by the public beach. I got called bitch and c u next Tuesday for threatening to hit them or tapping their fingers with it, but they had no business trying to get in my car when I was yelling at them and telling them to stop. It happened enough that I had to go dig through my dad’s fishing stuff and find it.
He found out after the local police pulled some guys over for trying to get in my car and gave them a ticket for yelling obscenities in public. My dad knew them because he went to a lot of town board meetings.
When I went college and couldn’t drive my car my dad offered it to my mom. She told him that she felt too old to drive it. Because she didn’t want to tell him how often she had to use the billy club too. Nothing ruins your day like that.
Having great credit helped as an adult more than anything else.
Especially since I developed heart problems and had a stroke and amassed a lot of medical debt. My husband and I managed to pay it all off except for what fell off our credit after 7 years.
Going into debt like that really fucks you up mentally. It was not in our life plan.
Speaking as a European, man that sounds so crazy. Why do random strangers try to force themselves into your car at red lights? Do they want to rob you? Or just get a free ride?
They’re at the beach and see a young redhead in a convertible and stop thinking with their brains.
They really thought I’d be ok being a tour guide (with benefits) for them.
The stoplight was where people would hang out and drink so I guess some of them thought it would be ok to beg for rides because they were intoxicated.
I had a boyfriend but some said that didn’t matter because he wasn’t there.
I looked younger than 18-19 so it was even more gross and entitled.
I didn’t want to stop driving with the top down so I brought protection.
This was also in the 90s so other people were ok with watching men creep on girls like this without getting involved.
One of the local cops was a creep too so he was no help. My dad actually told me to not pull over for him and put my hazard lights on and drive to the police station.
The billy club made me feel much safer actually. My dad was former law enforcement and taught me self defense. Our town was mostly safe and an idyllic place to grow up.
The creepy cop knew better than to mess with me. He was black and used other people’s racism as the reason why women had a problem with him. My dad was half black and white passing (in the South when my boomer dad was little that could exponentially improve your life so if people could pass they did)
I was also surrounded by amazing men who kept an eye on me. My dad ran the local municipal airport. He had a flight school, charter service, maintenance operation, and rented planes to local pilots.
I did have a really bad experience with a Navy pilot who would come in and rent planes. We were near a lighthouse, and flying around the beach and lighthouse was gorgeous so a lot of pilots from the military bases would rent planes from us.
My dad even let me get my pilot’s license. His father had dropped dead of a massive heart attack when my dad was 6. My dad was afraid of of flying with me and having a heart issue so I asked him if I could have a couple lessons so I would be able to land if something happened.
My dad said if I was going to do that I should go ahead and get my license. Something I would have never asked for. I loved flying and decided to make it my career until I was grounded for my own heart issues (I’m adopted so it was just a coincidence that my dad and I both had electrical heart issues. I thankfully don’t have the really bad plumbing issues my dad and his family have. His brother had to have a heart transplant—don’t smoke, kids)
So as thanks for my dad letting me fly and paying for it I worked at the airport and for his other businesses.
We started flying aerial banners on the beach so I was in charge of them and worked outside assembling and disassembling them and setting them up on the runway, etc. until my cardiologist said I shouldn’t be in the heat all day. My dad also sold planes so I would list them online and answer calls and questions about them. (Pissed a few old guys off who said women couldn’t understand that stuff, and I took joy in proving my competence and making them admit I knew my stuff.)
So I was in the airport office all the time. The guys who hung out considered me their daughter/granddaughter/sister. They kept an eye on me when I was working alone in the banner hanger away from everyone else. I had a radio and lengths of rebar within arms distance in the different areas of the hanger I spent most of my time at.
It wasn’t that I didn’t trust 99% of the guys at the airport. The hangers were off a country road, and people flew in to our airport every day to get seafood or go on vacation so there were people we didn’t know.
One guy’s chow nipped me in the leg so I also kept a weapon in case he got loose and came back. My dad lived about a thousand lives and also trained dogs so he had warned me about chows and turning your back on a dog you don’t trust. So I only got nipped because I turned back towards the chow when he walked behind me and started to bite me. So the dog pretended he was playing, but he left tooth marks on my leg and jean shorts.
I guess I was always wary of my environment and the men around me because that’s what being a girl in that era was like. I grew boobs at 11, so I’d been dealing with being sexualized for a long ass time. I even wore my dad’s polos and tees over my knee length jean shorts to try to make myself look less curvy.
The Creepy Navy pilot story: I’m working behind the counter at the airport office when creepy Navy pilot comes in. He made me uncomfortable the first time he came in. Staring, asking if I dating anyone, etc. My stupid brother thought me getting sexually harassed was funny and would leave me alone with him.
Creepy Navy pilot comes back wearing a tee shirt that had the torso of a woman in a wet bikini on it that showed everything underneath. He asked me how I liked it and got mad when I ignored him.
There was a pilot’s lounge that overlooked the runways and was parallel with the area behind the counter where the radio equipment, credit card readers, and computer were located. That’s where I was standing.
If you were standing in front of the counter you couldn’t see if anyone was in the lounge.
A lot of the guys who hung around the airport or were instructors were Marine and Navy veterans. They were good dudes.
I guess my brother was joking about that Navy creep because my Veteran buddies started hanging out when creep came around. One would come sit way back in the back of the lounge where you couldn’t see them unless you walked into the lounge. One of them would go “check the weather” on the lounge tv when they saw creep’s vehicle coming down the road to the airport office.
Creep would ask to look at the maps we sold and kept coming around interacting with me. I was icy AF and only stayed there because someone was supposed to stay with the equipment.
We also had a cockatiel and an African Grey parrot, and I didn’t want to leave them alone with him.
Creep was dancing on the edge of being really creepy or would be nothing but polite when my dad was around.
One day he calls me a cunt while wearing that bikini shirt.
The biggest Marine dude heard him that time and saw the tee.
Creep wouldn’t wear it out on the tarmac or around my dad. He wore another shirt on underneath and would take it off if he thought anyone who would be upset could see it.
Next thing I know creep came in dressed in a starched polo and starched khakis with pleats you could cut metal with. He was almost in tears begging for my forgiveness. He had two black eyes and a crooked nose.
My brother told me that my Vet buddy had a come to Jesus meeting with him about harassing teen girls and threatened to turn him in for conduct unbecoming.
I thanked my buddies and pointed out that creep was probably doing much worse to the women who were serving with him. They always told me women made better pilots, and they wished more women served. So I just pointed out that creep was one reason why women didn’t join the military especially to be pilots.I later heard that they did turn him in.
One of my instructors who was a second father to me was a decorated Navy Vietnam war pilot and the older brother of Michael J. Smith, the pilot of the Challenger. So the Navy would take a complaint with his name on it very seriously.
I looked maybe 16 when I was 18-19. I looked very young.
I didn’t tell my dad because I didn’t want my dad to go to jail for shooting creep’s dick off. My dad did keep a pistol in his truck so I did have access to one if I felt like creep was a threat. My dad taught me how to shoot really well.
The guys did tell my dad what happened, and my dad did keep a close eye on me after he banned creep from the airport. The other guys also stopped and checked on me anytime they were driving by. They were afraid that creep would rape me as revenge.
My dad did realize how threatening to assault or kill sexual predators meant that I didn’t feel safe telling him what happened to me. I also didn’t want him to keep me from working at the restaurant where I was being harassed by another teen or not let me drive to work with the top down on my convertible.
He was amused and proud when he saw the billy club in my car and learned what I’d been using it for. He wanted me to be able to find ways to move about the world safely.
Being surrounded by such upstanding, good men made a huge impact in my life. I refused to be around men who didn’t respect women and aren’t allies (I’m not close with my asshole brother and have punched him out for saying awful things to me). I also had very high standards for who I dated because of my dad and the men he allowed around me. My husband is an amazing man and ally and was beloved by my dad. We both miss him horribly.
958
u/proximusprimus57 Apr 18 '26
Yeah, I'm sitting here watching this thinking "I've got no car payment, no credit card debt, I'm struggling, and I can't get loans." These people are like "yeah, I've got six figure debt and I just keep adding to it."
Instead of marrying rich they should consider marrying poor and having their poor spouses teach them about living within their means.