I suspect for weeks it is something catastrophic, so for these same weeks I start researching used cars versus new cars versus leasing a car. I check dealers' websites and do all kinds of car reviews and reports. I become an expert on what to expect for my own old car, especially now that it's $3,600 away from just being ready to run (with no guarantee of its health thereafter). Not a sound investment, therefore ... death.
I have no intention of buying a sedan. I don't like sedans. Well, not entirely true: I really enjoyed driving my son's Lancer until he traded it in, and that thing was a very sporty sedan.
Don't panic, folks. I am an experienced used car wrangler, and I love the hunt for cars. I enjoy being oh-so-sweet to the salespeople until they make one wrong, sinister move, then I pounce on them, eat them alive, and spit them quite publicly back onto the sales floor. Ask my son -- he witnessed a recent tirade after he was victim of a dealer's bait-and-switch routine just to get us to drive far out of our way through rush-hour traffic. "Oh, THAT car you've been calling about JUST sold earlier today..." Bullshit, asshole, that's why we called before we left this afternoon. Liar, liar, pants on fire trying to sell my son a more expensive car, like we just fell off the damn turnip truck. My son, initially embarrassed and pissed at me, learned valuable lessons about car shopping and his mother that afternoon.
Unfortunately, as I approach my decision that now HAS to be made, I know in advance that out of the dozen or so cars I intend to test drive, one of them is the cream of the crop: black sedan with low miles, good gas mileage, reliable Japanese engine, top scores for used vehicle from multiple reliable outlets, and a steal of a price. But, the salesman (the only one I semi-trust in the whole business, even though I know most of it's shtick), knows I want a hatchback, wagon, or SUV. That's what I want; that's what I need for the gear I haul and the way I travel.
I hem and I haw. It's a SEDAN, for chrissakes, and, to be perfectly honest, it's not at all what I WANT. However, I know in my brain that logically it is the car that I NEED. I hesitate. Play the game a little. Look around. Pull out my folder of research. Ask about other vehicles on the lot. Throw out some cheap cars that I can afford to buy brand new if I so choose.
He talks me down. He thinks he knows where this is going. He pushes the team to give me more for my car. It's not much. The car needs too much work. We start playing Let's Make a Deal. I ask about a spare tire; it's there. I ask them to throw in a remote starter; they say they won't because it's not a car from their specific dealership. I pout. Throw in a second key, I say, and I might think about it.
The salesman comes back with a second key and a huge smile. Nowhere in the paperwork does it say that the car has a remote starter. This is huge. It's like having an additional $500+ tacked onto my trade-in. A few haggles later, including lifetime free-stickers for the car, cheap oil changes, and a cherry of an extended warranty deal, I sign on the line. I drive the car off the lot, leave my beloved car behind (so sad), and need only to return the following day for my new registration, a full tank of gas, and an inspection sticker.
I don't even have to go to the DMV.
Of course, now I'm driving a black sedan, just like every other schmoe on the road. Plus, my son has a black sedan, and so does the neighbor who shares our driveway. It looks like freaking Batman lives here. When the salesman calls to see how I like the car, I tell him that it's okay and that I'm learning to like it. He calls a few days later to ask again, and I tell him that I like it, but I don't love it. Yet.
I will, though. If I know me, and I do, every car that I've ever owned has endeared itself to me somehow. Once I learn what every damn gadget is for, though, I'll like it a lot more. I went from a 2007 to a 2013 and didn't even know how to start the car (no physical key), so the two of us have a lot to learn from each other. Once I figure out how to connect the Blue Tooth, we'll probably be able to communicate a little better, and maybe, just maybe, the new baby will get a name that endears it to me and earns a spot in my heart.
