Car Shopping: A Brief Memoir

April 27, 2009

If you're ever bored on a Friday night, don't have enough cash to buy a burger, and want to be more than entertained for the length of a double-feature movie, then you should come shopping with me for a new family vehicle. Really, you're all invited.

You see, we did some car shopping this past Friday, and let me tell you, I did not disappoint. The whole experience from start to finish, all four hours of it, was beyond insane.

It started with me saying, "Huh. So that's what the Dodge Journey looks like," sometime around 4pm.

Somewhere around 7:15pm I could be heard saying (and this is no joke), "Listen Jeff, if you let me take the car home for one night, see how it fits my lifestyle, and figure out if the third row is at all suitable for making out with my husband, then I can 99% guarantee that you'll have yourself a deal."

And then, sometime around 8:30, it ended with me shouting, and I kid you not, "You have BULL SH*T running through your dirty, little veins! Both of you! BULL SH*T," ripping up a contract, and marching out the front door of the dealership.

Yes, I will do my best to relay the entire story to you without boring you to tears. But first, please allow me provide a little bit of background information to any readers who might be new kids on the crazy block...

My name is Amy Lawson, and it is in fact against my religion to swear. Anywho, I am also the proud driver of a 1989 4wd Chevy S10 Blazer. This particular vehicle has been in my life since I was in junior high, so obviously I love it just as much as any other member of my family--4-year-old child included. I learned how to drive in the Blazer, I took it with me to college, and when I got married at the ripe old age of 21, my parents were like, "Uh...you can keep it?" And thus it has remained a fixture in my life. Heck, it even survived a trip to Texas and back. Sure the trip back was on a flatbed truck, but you know, whatever.

It's a beast in the snow, it's incredibly fun to stand on top of, and oh, did I mention how very much I love it?

If you'd like to see a picture of the Blazer with its front wheel falling off, please click here.

If you'd like to learn more about the condition of my vehicle a year and a half ago--and trust me, you really, really do--please click here.

Anyway, Jared and I took a sacred and solemn vow on the night of our wedding--the same night he complimented me on my sparkling green eyes (they're blue ya dumb ass!)--that we would drive the Blazer right into the ground.

Well ladies and gentlemen, *DING!*, we have officially arrived in the basement level. She's got an oil leak that can't be pinpointed (head gasket, anyone?), a moderate to severely wicked antifreeze leak, and she leans six good inches to the left--which Google has clearly told me is a strong indicator that the breaks could go out and any second. And let's be honest here, the blue book value is somewhere in the $600 range--my husband's life has got to be worth at least $750.

Realistically, we're hoping to get enough money from the sale to buy ourselves a new lawnmower (the push kind), two Slurpees, and a 6-pack of Trojans--just to feel young again.

So anywho, here we are in the market for a new family vehicle. Which led me to Google the phrase "crossover," which led me to the Journey, which led me to the stinky, slimy hands of the most frig-awful car dealer in the history of all history. Yes Jeff, I'm talking about you.

And here's the part that led to the ever so dramatic weeping, wailing, and ripping of contracts. The part that I've promised to make quick. Ten steps, bear with me:

1) We agree on a fair price. They agree to give us a $1,000 trade for the Blazer. They agree to make our last payment on our station wagon that we're planning to keep.

2) We say, "Fine. It's late. We're hungry. Just sell us the car."

3) They print up some contracts.

4) I read the contracts.

5) They're selling us the car, which had 3,000 miles on it, supposedly from the manager, as used. Funny, because the car with 5,000 miles on it? Yeah, they were going to sell to us as new.

6) Because it's used, the lifetime warranty is null and void. $1,900 if we want to buy it.

7) Because it's used, we get a higher interest rate on the loan and no longer qualify for 0% financing.

8) Because it's used, that rebate they mentioned? Yeah, we don't get that either.

9) The last car payment that they so generously offered to make has been not-so-generously rolled into our new car loan.

10) I call them all bastards and leave them a huge, disgusting fart as I walk out the door.

The super skeevy financing guy yells, "But wait? Don't you want this car?" And I yell back over my shoulder, "Just about as bad as I want to have your baby." And trust me guys, the last thing I want, in this world, is a baby with slicked back hair, a goatee, poor taste in shoes, and no moral compass.

Needless to say, we didn't buy that car--but we did buy another car.

And as for me? I just want the Blazer back.