This is an x-post from Reddit, but the posts are great. I’ve added some below:
My grandma died, and we inherited it.
One of my friends got his from his recently deceased grandmother.
This is probably the case 50% of the time.
My grandma bought my aunts PT Cruiser from her to give to my mom and dad since their car had died and they couldn’t afford a new one. We called it the PT Pooper. It died in the middle of the high way around Christmas last year.
My mother owned her PT Cruiser for about six months before selling the thing. She was so excited to own a sleek new car until she found out it was a piece of shit. Her’s was a brown-ish color, and her co-workers called it the penis-mobile
When I was in high school my grandfather gifted me a PT for my birthday so I didn’t have to keep borrowing my dad’s car. It was a white one with wood paneling complete with spinners. As lame as that car sounds, I was just super grateful to have a car of my own, plus the looks people would give me were priceless. When I still had the spinners on them (I didn’t want to hurt my grandpa’s feelings by taking them off) people would actually point and laugh at my car, which made me laugh in return. My friends deemed it the shaggin’ wagon because it’s lameness was almost awesome in a way.
EDIT; so I forgot to mention the best part! The person who previously owned my PT put a Hemi emblem on the side of my car because that’s clearly believable. Also I promise to post pictures tomorrow but I’m not sure where.
My mom’s neighbor has owned multiple, let me repeat that, MULTIPLE PT cruisers. She gets a new one when she pays off the old one. Her husband worked for Chrysler, so they get a hell of a discount on pretty much anything they want and she refuses to get anything different.
I honestly have no idea if they still make them, but a brand new one, without fail, appears every five years.
I can only assume they simply materialize as some form of punishment for past wrong-doings. Like she sees it in her garage in the morning, hangs her head and says, “I thought I really got my shit together this year.”
In Spring, 2002, my grandmother died and left us a small fortune in her estate. Shortly thereafter, my mother came home with a brand new car. It was her first brand new car ever, and for a woman of 44 years she was ecstatic that she was finally able to buy one of her own. She had fought through a lifetime of beaters, lemons, junkers and salvage yard deals just to make it to work every day, to make ends meet. Needless to say, when she pulled up in a 2002 PT Dream Cruiser, Inca Gold Pearl Edition, I was stunned. Little did we know that from the ashes of my grandmother’s inheritance would rise a phoenix of seemingly malicious Detroit engineering.
With the under-hood servicing space of a BMW Isetta and the turning radius of a Carnival Cruise Liner, this vehicular version of E.D. lasted less than 10 years before needing major engine, transmission and suspension work, all with careful driving and regular service.
Finally, it died, but in someone’s driveway, and the first “buy your title” tow place we called understandably laughed in our faces when we told them it was a PT.
Confession time: When I was little, the PT Cruiser was my dream car…I had posters everywhere and everything, the dark purple with flames, I had probably ten miniature PT Cruisers of all shapes and sizes…I still cringe.
True story: My girlfriend talks in her sleep. I’m a light sleeper, so everytime she talks I wake up. She’s always in that sort of twilight state where she will say something, I can reply, and she’ll answer.
So one night she says “They are horrible, I hate them”. I said “What’s horrible?” She replied “PT Cruisers”, and went back to sleep without saying anything else.
I thought it would be funny. People would be like haha look at that loser driving that stupid friggin car and then I’d get out and they’d be like nevermind that’s a pretty cool guy. Nobody says that. They just laugh. I haven’t got laid in a long time. I hate everything. I hope it explodes while I’m driving it
It was a Saturday night. My wife and I were having dinner at a pretty reputable and quality steak house. It was delicious.
Next thing we know we were deep into a billiard tournament. I just wanted to play a game with her, however the “rules” prevented that.
After a couple games I was introduced to a league manager. He told me I qualified for a quarter final. I played and made the semi.
Next thing I know I was playing some dude named Gunner for a spot in the final. He broke, sewered, and I ran out. I was in the final!
Now I’m matched with a veteran pro stick. I ended up beating him.
What do I win? A drill set? I wish, I have some pictures to hang!
A new lawnmower? That will make my lawn look great!
A fucking PT cruiser!
What a waste of my time.
The only thing I wanted when I was a young teenager was a Mini Cooper. I loved those fucking cars, I’d watched the remake of The Italian Job many times. On my 16th birthday my father told me that he had gotten me one of those cars I loved so much. I was beyond ecstatic, I was the happiest teenager in the world. A short bit later and a PT Cruiser is unveiled… Somehow my father had gotten them confused, he had thought that the PT Cruiser was the car I was dreaming about. After a brief moment of complete heartbreak I realized that while this wasn’t a Mini Cooper it was still a car given to me on my sixteenth birthday and that I was incredibly lucky to have it. I got over the disappointment, thanked my father, and drove the shit out of that PT Cruiser.
It wasn’t what I wanted but I was lucky to have it, it got me from place to place and could fit me + 3 friends and backpacks etc. It got the job done.
My cousin was given one when her mother in law passed away. She was divorced from the man whose mother posthumously gifted her the car less than two months later.
It was purple. She named it Grimace, and drove it for years until she got her life back on track.
My dad bought me one without asking me. I feel bad sounding like an ungrateful brat but holy shit it was so lame and the gas mileage was atrocious. I don’t miss you, Gladys, you piece of shit.
Mine is actually a prescription PT Cruiser. I have a condition known as Hyper-Fertility, which means my sperm are so fertile, they can actually damage a women’s internal organs. Doctor’s prescribe PT Cruisers to hyper-fertiles like me, so all women are repelled, and there’s no danger of temptation.
I married into a PT Cruiser. She bought it from one of those salvaged title Latino car lots where they only take cash (broke college student). Less than 30,000 miles, a decent bumper replacement job, all for under 4,000 dollars. What a steal she thought. I will never forget sitting passenger—a combination of shame and discomfort. We eventually gave it to her grandmother where she in turn gave it to the black-sheep grandchild. Now it can be seen with child seats and Kool cigarette smoke pouring from the windows as the fake wood siding peels off like the dead skin of a wind struck sunburn. PT’s seem to eventually find their proper owners: hopeless white-trash.
Not me, but one of my good friends. His uncle promised to give him a car on his 17th birthday. The only exception was, my friend had to smash his XBox with a baseball bat. He wanted him to prove that he was ‘becoming a man’ or something and that he was leaving his XBox (along with other ‘childish’ activities) in the past .My friends uncle was kind of weird and would always do weird shit like this. Anyway, my friend eventually smashes said Xbox with a baseball bat and his uncle gives him the keys to the car. What he didn’t know was that the car was a PT Cruiser. Now he not only has the worst car in existence, but a car that constantly reeks of weed and McDonald’s.
So, my grandmother-in-law owns one, just like 99% of the other cases here. She’s the sweetest lady ever. She says, “You know what I like about my car? They don’t make them anymore so you can’t tell if it’s new or old!”
The statement obviously made zero sense, but she’s way too sweet to make her feel anything but loved so I didn’t say anything, of course.
A friend of mine was “gifted” a maroon PT from his parents when he got his license. One day he was driving in front of me on a straight, flat road with smooth shoulders, flat fields on both sides, and nothing to hit within eyesight. He somehow managed to flip it onto its roof and slide to a stop. Expecting a horrible scene I immediately stopped and ran up to help him, only to see him crawling out of the drivers window saying, “I really hope this piece of shit is totaled.”
… And it goes on and on… lol