When I turned eighteen, my older sister bought me my first car. She was working as a junior paralegal and had been saving for months, so I expected something decent. Instead, she handed me the keys to a beat-up 2004 Honda Civic with faded blue paint and a manual transmission that popped out of third gear. I was secretly disappointed. She made good money. I figured she'd found the cheapest junker she could and called it a birthday present...