Car shopping

I thought about selling my car about a year ago. It idles pretty rough and I was never all that crazy about it. My parents picked it out after I totaled the prettiest little blue car. It had power locks and windows and a sunroof – upgrades from the pretty blue car – but I just didn’t like it as well.

I was parking in the deck at work when I first started my new job. As I would turn the many corners, the car would squeal in a chirping sort of manner. Not the tires - something from inside the engine area. It scared the hell out of people as they walked toward the exits. It embarrassed the hell out of me as I ducked my head and blushed when they’d turn to stare. The tires did need replacing (though, again, I was not squealing my tires in the parking deck. Just to be clear.) – I hadn’t had the car for all that long, but it was getting older. Might as well get something I liked more, especially since I had some money saved that I didn’t use for the move. Renting trucks and doing it all yourself, listening to family complaints all the while, saves some cash.

I went to the dealer back home with Dad and we drove two cars. Both made in 2001, like the little silver coup I was considering trading in. These had 4 doors though – I’d been driving 2 door cars for several years – being anti-social means I don’t cart people around too often. My little car got good gas mileage. Was a bit smaller so parking was easier (I’m not great at parking and worse at backing up. Though I’ve recently started watching people and have decided I’m not nearly as bad as I think they are). But the hope was that I might meet someone here in my new southern home. Amidst fantasies of taking some charming man home with me, flirting and holding hands while Chienne settled in the backseat, I started looking for sedans.

There was a yellow one with red embellishments painted on. I laughed out loud when the Chip, our sales representative, showed it to us.

Dad peered at it and pronounced it cool. Then he turned to me with a teasing smile.

“Chip,” I said after rolling my eyes at Dad. “It’s hard to tell exactly what I want. I know price range, and that I was really happy with my pretty blue Cavalier. Other than that, I’m open to seeing a lot of cars. But I know one thing. I will never drive a yellow car. I’m embarrassed that my classy silver one makes noise when it turns. So much so that I might trade it in. So the thought that people would stare at me while I drive this bright-as-the-sun beacon of gaudiness is silly. It’s great for some people. But not for me.”

Chip nodded seriously and steered me toward the more moderate looking cars. Serious cars. Not showy at all.

The black one had fewer miles. The white one had a sports package. We never did find out what that meant exactly. I think the tires were prettier and the interior was slightly different. I honestly didn’t have a strong preference. They were the same price, parked right next to each other, and I remember turning back and forth, back and forth, finally turning to shrug at Dad.

“I just don’t know.”

So he advised some time to think about it and we drove the little silver car home. I had decided to keep it – throw my savings at some credit card debt – when I turned left into my parents’ driveway and scowled at the freaking chirpy squeal.

“Screw it.” I turned to Dad decisively. “I’m getting rid of it. We’ll go back and pick a new one.”

We headed into the house to wait for Mom. She still owned (actually still owns) the silver car. When she arrived, we drove back to the dealer.

Chip was quite pleased to see us and had the white car brought up for a test drive. Why it took so long to move it 30 yards is beyond me, but whatever. We drove it and I noticed a small noise when it turned. Sensitive to such problems, I told Dad this wasn’t the right car. We took the black one out and found no blatant problems. I didn’t care for the way the plastic on the sides transitioned into the cloth above our heads. I frowned over the radio for some reason too – I can’t really remember why.

I’m decisive even when there’s underlying uncertainty, so we pressed on. I decided on the black car and Chip found an extra chair while I sat with my parents. Someone had taken the little silver car out for a drive while they determined the appropriate trade-in value. I felt a pang of guilt – I hate getting rid of cars. They become part of my life and I appreciate them taking me places safely. So I feel really badly when we trade them in, though it’s better than wrecking them. I’ve watched two get towed away and sobbed both times, feeling miserable over ruining cars that had saved me from injury in accidents.

Chip, after telling us how he’d started in sales, how he commuted from a nearby town, his future plans in the dealership, left us at his desk to find out what we’d get for the silver car.

I looked at Mom as we sat and waited, face obviously showing some concern.

“Are you sure you want something new?” She asked, noting my painful reaction to letting my car go.

“It’s been a good car.” I explained. “But that noise is awful. I really hate the noise.”

“You could get that fixed. It’s still under warranty.” Dad offered, stirring his coffee and looking bored. We’d waited forever throughout the test drive, choose car, get trade value process.

I nodded – not bored at all – worrying over whether I wanted a new car at all, let alone the black one we’d chosen.

“I want it to be easy.” I confessed. “That they either make a really bad offer and we leave or it’s a really good offer and I can take it and be pleased with the deal.”

“It’s seldom easy.” Mom said, trying as she often does to prepare me for the worst.

It’s not particularly easy right now. I don’t know how to make sure I’m doing the right things at the right time. Should I be looking harder for someone to date? Force myself past a crush that I still sometimes flutter over? Should I start looking for another job? Or work like crazy to make this one come together more quickly? Balance seems important. So I’ve spent time on the phone lately – hours, in fact. Friends and family – people I love and who can make me laugh and sigh and try to articulate all these feelings that seem overwhelming lately. So I’m falling behind on answering comments and email. Not writing as well as I wish I was – I’m having important thoughts lately, but they’re hardly original.

I do know I’m sad and confused. I was told in a recent email that big decisions were likely unwise at this point. That I needed to recover. Settle a bit. Then review my life and see how I feel about something. What I want to change or fix or leave alone.

Chip came back and offered $840 for my car. We’d looked it up online and decided $4400 was fair. So I recoiled from the paper he presented and gasped with indignation. Then I looked at Mom and smiled.

“It’s easy.” I said. “I’m keeping the little silver car.” Then I told Chip the offer was insultingly low, apologized for wasting his time, and headed toward the exit. He and his manager, upon trying to block our exit, were subjected to Mom’s irritation over having wasted our time and not making a reasonable offer on a car we’d purchased there only a year earlier. I left feeling a bit angry, but upon unlocking my car, I laughed a bit. Sometimes looking at what’s out there makes you appreciate what you have. Other times you realize you never needed to look at all. Then there are those occasions when a change is in order.

I can’t figure it out right now. I do know I fixed my car – no squealing noises when I turn corners. It was some sort of air intake blockage (I actually have no idea, but if you picture me saying “air intake blockage” with great confidence, you might believe it) and was rapidly repaired. I bought new tires for $300 rather than the $1500 I wanted to spend on a new car that would have its own set of problems. So while it’s not always easy, it does tend to work out for the best.

Eventually.

At least that’s the hope.