The PT Cruiser / Kyle
I have a real strange affinity for the Chrysler PT Cruiser. To me it evokes an optimistic time in America, pre 9/11, long before the Great Recession where CEOs sat in board rooms saying, “yeah, that looks pretty fucking cool to me man.”
My childhood friend Kyle drove one. It was a black turbo version. His alcoholic, but competent, tinkerer dad gave it to him. I spent many nights sleeping on the couch of his basement room after playing hours of GameCube and Skate 2. There was a mini fridge full of soda, an ancient turtle gently trying to escape a tank in the unfinished basement outside his room.
He hated that car. His dad was a rail thin heavy smoker and the car smelled of cigarettes. I didn’t mind it honestly. The front two seats were positioned like dentists’ chairs and the car had a little zip.
The PT cruiser lived a short and successful life. It was first manufactured by Plymouth and after their demise was taken over by Chrysler. It had a home as a cop car in New Zealand, and a chauffeurs car in Tokyo Disneyland.
Starting junior year of high school we went to the gym together every day after school, he was 10 months older than me and drove me for those 10 months. We would get McDonald’s after, 2 McDoubles add Mac sauce, a mcchicken, small fries, and sometimes a chocolate shake. We both got a lot stronger. We’d sit in the steam room together, chat with the weird old dudes at the gym who would talk about getting “ass”.
Kyle was my best friend. I had an unpleasant home life, and he was the only one who I felt liked me at that time. His parents went through an acrimonious divorce and it really affected him. He was universally beloved, but he had something dark in him.
He would tell me about nights where he couldn’t sleep and would bang his head against the wall until he passed out. He was hospitalized on suicide watch a few times.
One swampy New England night we were driving around in his PT cruiser and heading to a nature reserve in the town next to ours, Concord. We were gonna smoke some weed, or just listen to the bugs or whatever. It’s about a half mile down a dirt road. That night he was in a mood, screaming insane and was flooring it down this dirt road.
The PT cruiser he drove was fitted with a 2.4L turbo engine, producing 140 hp. It was also sold abroad with an engine manufactured by Mercedes Benz for Europe, Asia, and South Africa. It also had a convertible version, won car of the year from motor trend, and was in the top 10 for Car and Driver.
His PT Cruiser barely stayed on the road and he careened, gas pedal down. I felt like I could see behind his eyes and there was nothing there. I was scared for him.
Kyle died of an overdose in 2020, but I think it was intentional. He worked at the gym that we went to growing up, after self-sabotaging his last semester at Penn State. His frat brothers were surprised he survived his time there, but he left without a degree.
He worked at the gym, but I could tell he was ashamed of it.
One night growing up I really needed to get out of my house. I was supposed to meet Kyle and another friend, Sam. I had a fight with my dad on the way out, I pretended I had to leave now and even though I was leaving 20 minutes early I figured we’d meet up anyway. I’m not sure what the deal was but Sam was driving, and I couldn’t get ahold of them for over an hour. I couldn’t go home so I wandered around town at night alone. Eventually we link and go to smoke some weed on the middle school soccer field. Inside I’m livid. Sam expected me to be more grateful for the weed.
We got back to his basement; his dad always left us alone. Sam went up to use the bathroom and Kyle can see I’m choking back tears. I was so unhappy with my life in that moment. He pulls up an early meme of a guy holding too many limes, which we both liked. I laughed. I have a tattoo of that meme now.
During Covid he lost his job, which at that time was really his connection to the outside world, living at home after what I’m sure was an unhinged 4 years in school. After several months of isolation, the day he found out he wasn’t getting his job back he died. He was actually mistaken; they called the next day. His mom told me at the funeral. She said they killed Kyle to save some old people. I said, “well…”
The PT cruiser survived Kyle, his dad still had it rusting in the driveway when I came back for the funeral.