Fucking cars, man. We just don’t get along at all. My beloved (erm..question mark) Jetta shit the bed a few weeks ago. Naturally, I was devastated. Mostly because if I don’t have a car at my disposal at ALL times, I die. So in order for me to get to work and run my daily/useless errands, I had to borrow Drew’s car. Now, what you must understand is, Drew is WAY into cars. I am not. This actually causes the biggest fights in our relationship.
“Wanna go out to dinner?”
“No, I have to save money for a new steering wheel.”
“What’s wrong with the one you have now?”
“I want a new one”
“Okay, but whats wrong with the one you have now?”
“Nothing. I just want a new one.”
“You JUST got a new one a few months ago!”
“I know, but I’m bored with it.”
“OH MAH GAHD. I’m bored with you. Kill yourself!”
“No, YOU kill YOURself!”
“We never do anything! waaaaaaah!”
Ok, I know from that piece of dialogue, I look like the bitch but trust me, I’m not. I’m just not. This is my life.
Now since Drew puts all this unnecessary shit on his car that is 23 YEARS OLD, its really no easy task driving it. The car itself is about 4 inches off the ground. If you drive on a road that even slightly uneven or bumps-game over. You’ve most likely ripped something from the bottom of the car and everything is dead. Including me, because it was probably my fault.
Moving forward- so I really wanted a mini for my new car. Looking at a mini is like playing with 50 puppies all at the same time. Its so adorable, you just die. So, drew and I went to a dealership so I could test drive one. I have never been to a dealership to look at a car for myself so I didn’t know what i was getting myself into. Nothing..and I mean NOTHING could’ve prepared me for what was to come. I had zero intentions of buying a car from this place anyway. Even I knew it was way overpriced and they didn’t even have the color car I wanted (lets be serious, that was the only reason).
After about 10 minutes of waiting around, a little ginger came over and started helping us. He couldn’t’ve been more than five feet tall and 50 pounds. I’m so cereal, too. CRAZY awkward looking. So after about 20 more minutes of questions, he is finally able to bring the mini around. As he is leaving the building, I turn to Drew and say “I do NOT want him in the car with us. He’s creepy and totally cramping my style!” When he comes in, Drew tells him to stay put and we’ll back back in a jiff (not really, but along those lines). So, I take it out for a spin and I am giggling like a little school girl the entire time. After 20 minutes of driving around and temporarily getting lost, we pull back into the dealership. Not 2 seconds later, the little ginger dude comes sprinting out the door and starts freaking out:
“WHERE IS THE LICENSE PLATE?!?!?!?!??!?!”
*vacant blank stare back* “uh, what?”
“THE THE DEALER LICENSE PLATE!!! WHERE IS IT???”
“I don’t know…you put them on, not me!”
“WELL DID THEY FALL OFF? THOSE ARE LIKE THOUSAND DOLLAR PLATES! THIS IS A HUGE DEAL”
“Dude, I honestly have no idea. We didn’t steal them if that is what you are getting at.”
In a fit of exasperation, he practically pulls me out of my seat and shoves me into the back. While he is speeding out of the parking lot, I shoot Drew a nervous look. Were we going to die? Get arrested? Was this little whisp of a man going to be the death of me? I had no idea. I couldn’t handle it. Then, through the grey clouds and rain (did I mention it was raining? it was) came a beam of sunlight. That is when I saw the license plate lying in the middle of the road. I shit you not, this little ginger leprechaun let out a squeal of delight and he scampered out of the car. As he sat back down, he turns to me with this huge ass grin and says “So, how do you feel about the car?” are…are you serious? Did you REALLY think I was going to bust out my check book after that ordeal? NO THANKS.
Its 3 weeks later and I am still getting calls from this guy asking how my mini search has been going. You’d think after calling 5 times and leaving messages EVERY SINGLE TIME, he’d take the hint. Nope. He has even gone as far as hiding his number so it comes up as “restricted” on my phone. Nice try ginger, I may be a girl (who DOESN’T want an automatic, but thanks for assuming I did) but I am one smart cookie.
Stay tuned for part 2…where the REAL good shit starts.