The one that got away

So, it’s not Thursday.
The fact that this post is coming out three days late is a combination of Thursday being Thanksgiving and being the middle of one hell of work week.
Last pay period, I worked 100 hours…and it looks like I’m well on the way towards 100 hours this pay period. I’m about torn between exasperation and appreciation. I don’t like working so much (I don’t like the havoc it wrecks on my mental facilities or my patience); but I do appreciate the extra money it brings me. Extra money is something I sorely need right now.

Buying a newish car should not be this hard and I suppose it wouldn’t be if I didn’t have such rigid and exact standards.
Yesterday I went to the Honda dealership after to work to find out that the car I wanted sold five minutes before I walked in the building. I was, to put it bluntly, crushed. One full month that car has sat on the lot, while I drive by almost every day. One full month I have worked my butt off to add enough to my down payment to keep the monthly payments at or below $200. And five minutes before I walk in the door, it finally sells?
Then, of course, the salesman tries to talk me into a lease for a brand spanking new car. “Tried to talk me into” is a generous description. Apparently, all young women should want a fancy new car and a lease is better than a loan, and I shouldn’t let my mother dictate the quality of my ride. (The last time I was in there, I had brought Mom with me as muscle. Judging from the smooth streak of manipulative sales talk I got without her, it worked rather well!)
I finally told him in blunt, possibly rude terms that I didn’t want a fancy new car on a lease; I wanted the black 2012 Civic they’d just sold. The car I’ve been watching and working for. And then I walked out. In hindsight, it’s probably a good thing that car sold before I walked in, because I’m sure the vultures would have descended had they seen how much I really wanted that car.

So now I’m back to saving. Two more weeks, maybe a month more. Honestly, I’d rather freeze in my car without heat then go look at other vehicles right now. I guess I didn’t realize how much I’d come to think of that car as mine.
And, the more I save, the more cash I’ll have as a downpayment. The bigger the downpayment, the lower the monthly payments will have to be. At least, that’s the rationale I’ve come up with to justify this very childish sulking fit I seem to have fallen into since Honda sold my car right out from underneath me. Of the two of us, the ’91 Pontiac is behaving more maturely, I think. She hasn’t broken down out of spite or jealously just yet. Maybe she’s saving it for when I actually replace her, or maybe she’s just trying to get back into my good graces.

Ah, well. The car of my dreams is now not only a Honda Civic and not a Toyota Yaris, it’s now a black Civic.
Just not the one that got away.
Damn it. I really wanted that car!

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Categories: ordinary life | 5 Comments

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5 thoughts on “The one that got away

  1. Ralph and I are “fixin” to go head to head! Nobody is going to manipulate my girl! Well, actually, since one of your first words was “nipulate” I suppose you can hold your own, and momma bear can relax.

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    • Hannah

      I’m not sure how that’s going to correct the image of an over-forceful mother, but thank you.
      I’m also not sure storming out of a dealership in a huff is “holding my own”.

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  2. What Ralph fails to understand is that it was my idea to have you try the Honda. I wanted you to know what a good car felt like. So “pfffttt” to Ralph.

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    • Hannah

      Yes, but in his mind you’re still the biggest obstacle to selling a 2015 Civic, which I’m sure would look better on his record.

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  3. Nuts! One thing Matt and I learned while shopping for a house was not to get our hearts set on “the one” because there is always “another one.” Good for you for sticking to your guns (ahem…budget). Those sales guys are masterful at convincing people that they need more than they intended to buy. As for walking out in a huff, that’s actually a good bargaining strategy. Now they know how willing you are to walk away. Hang in there; another car will claim you soon enough.

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