Since I can't afford anything these days. I went and looked at new cars today.
When I was younger, I drove a camaro. First a nice vintage one and then a nice new one. Both standard transmissions and Oh! so cool. Then being a parent took over and I switched to an SUV.
Parents, I found out, didn't want their kids riding around in a muscle car. So, I sold out and bought a SUV and I have never looked back. Until today. I'm done with field trips and huge trips to the supermarket. Oh sure, I still have the dogs but surely they can fit in the back seat. I love the feel of an SUV in the winter. The ability to take on everything in my path. It just doesn't have the cool factor.
I think I want the cool factor. The feel of power. The fun of shifting. The feel of the thrill. The feel of being reckless and throwing caution to the wind. An SUV says "Hey! I'm dependable, predictable, safe." I want the car that screams "Fun, witty, lives life on the edge."
I want to do something that doesn't seem like something I would do. That people will shake their heads in disbelief that I have chosen to live my life with such a devil-may-care attitude. I turn 46 next Monday. It will be a hard birthday. Times are tough for me right now and I worry about everything and anything. The adult I am right at this second, is not the adult I want to be long term.
Maybe dreaming of a black car with a manual transmission and the ability to head south for a road trip, is just what an almost 46 year old female needs. That and a lot of horsepower under the hood. I feel the need for speed!
Showing posts with label cars. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cars. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Car Woes - Part Two
So my car is still in the shop. I still have to deal with the service department, which I still haven't gotten any better at. I am still driving the lovely little loaner car.
I blew out the radiator. I needed new valves for an oil leak. All just a giant ball of fun.
My service representative, also called idiot boy, is never available. I'm sorry he is away from his desk, I'm sorry he is with a client, I'm sorry you are not important and he really can't be bothered with you AT ALL. The excuses are never ending and I find that I start to have a voice that only dogs can hear whenever I call the dealership.
Sure, when I bought the car, it was explained to me how wonderful the service department was. They would be at my beck and call. My car would be treated like the princess it was and I would be the Queen. Then they cashed my check. And the fairy tale balloon popped and I was left with the pumpkin and idiot boy. Not a match made in heaven.
It was supposed to be done yesterday at 5:00 pm. Now I live in Seattle. The pumpkin palace is in Bellevue. All which means I need to drive over across Lake Washington, in rush hour. So calling me at 4:45 pm ON MY HOME PHONE is really not the way to go. Even in the middle of the night, it will take you longer than 15 minutes to drive to Bellevue. So I don't get the message.
We take a lovely drive to Bellevue for no reason. I fume all the way home, in rush hour traffic.
Of course idiot boy, who had asked for the best phone number to reach me and was given my CELL number, but he had neglected to write it down. As he explained, most of the time his memory is just super Thank you very much, but he was having an off day. PENCILS, people, PENCILS! I will not hold it against you if you whip one out and jot down a note. In fact, I will probably hug you IN PUBLIC.
So hope springs eternal that today will be the day I will take possession of my car, new radiator, new valves and I can finally leave idiot boy in the dust. Lets just hope.
I blew out the radiator. I needed new valves for an oil leak. All just a giant ball of fun.
My service representative, also called idiot boy, is never available. I'm sorry he is away from his desk, I'm sorry he is with a client, I'm sorry you are not important and he really can't be bothered with you AT ALL. The excuses are never ending and I find that I start to have a voice that only dogs can hear whenever I call the dealership.
Sure, when I bought the car, it was explained to me how wonderful the service department was. They would be at my beck and call. My car would be treated like the princess it was and I would be the Queen. Then they cashed my check. And the fairy tale balloon popped and I was left with the pumpkin and idiot boy. Not a match made in heaven.
It was supposed to be done yesterday at 5:00 pm. Now I live in Seattle. The pumpkin palace is in Bellevue. All which means I need to drive over across Lake Washington, in rush hour. So calling me at 4:45 pm ON MY HOME PHONE is really not the way to go. Even in the middle of the night, it will take you longer than 15 minutes to drive to Bellevue. So I don't get the message.
We take a lovely drive to Bellevue for no reason. I fume all the way home, in rush hour traffic.
Of course idiot boy, who had asked for the best phone number to reach me and was given my CELL number, but he had neglected to write it down. As he explained, most of the time his memory is just super Thank you very much, but he was having an off day. PENCILS, people, PENCILS! I will not hold it against you if you whip one out and jot down a note. In fact, I will probably hug you IN PUBLIC.
So hope springs eternal that today will be the day I will take possession of my car, new radiator, new valves and I can finally leave idiot boy in the dust. Lets just hope.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Car woes
Well, in the little shop of horrors, or also, my life, I got to take my car to the service department.
Yesterday, the little warning light came on with a message to "Check Coolant Levels." No idea what that is, where it might be located, or even if I own the correct coolant. So I called the service department.
Dealing with the service department is a talent I do not possess. Really dealing with the public is a talent I do not possess. Just let me call up and get a service appointment. Let me drop off my car, pick up the loaner car, and go about my day. Later on, you call, say car is fixed and we reverse the day. It seems so simple. Yet, it never works out that way.
First, I need to have rapid fire questions shot at me. What kind of coolant? What is the engine doing? What is the mileage? Has it gone Four Wheeling? My answers are always the same. "Who in the Sam hell knows!" If I knew the coolant it wanted, I would certainly provide it. I have no idea what the engine is doing, I assume it is running the car, but again no real clue. Since the car is still in the garage in the morning, I can safely say that it doesn't appear to have gone Four Wheeling in the night. But it may be living a secret life. My ex was and I didn't know about that one, so we can say that I may be unaware of activities that take place right under my nose.
Finally, we get an appointment and are set up for a loaner car. Drive over there. The kid goes because for some strange reason, HE ABSOLUTELY LOVES THE DEALERSHIP. The same questions are asked. For Pete's sake people, write it down. And for the record, if you work at a restaurant, write it down. Your mind is never as good as you think it is. Pencils were invented for a reason.
They try and give us a Hummer for a loaner. No thank you. We get a snazzy red jag. Very nice, though I feel like I am riding in a hole. I am a big believer in getting that insurance that is like a giant invisible shield all over your car. Where no matter what happens to you, you don't pay. Sweet! I always get it. It drives my kid nuts and he will have a long conversation about the waste of money that feature is. I don't listen. If there is a meteorite heading for New York, it will veer off course and hit me in Washington. I am a serious magnet for weirdos. Not just ones in cars either, they find me on foot as well. It is quite a talent.
So I am keeping my fingers crossed that it is something simple. And it will be done today. Let's all hope.
Yesterday, the little warning light came on with a message to "Check Coolant Levels." No idea what that is, where it might be located, or even if I own the correct coolant. So I called the service department.
Dealing with the service department is a talent I do not possess. Really dealing with the public is a talent I do not possess. Just let me call up and get a service appointment. Let me drop off my car, pick up the loaner car, and go about my day. Later on, you call, say car is fixed and we reverse the day. It seems so simple. Yet, it never works out that way.
First, I need to have rapid fire questions shot at me. What kind of coolant? What is the engine doing? What is the mileage? Has it gone Four Wheeling? My answers are always the same. "Who in the Sam hell knows!" If I knew the coolant it wanted, I would certainly provide it. I have no idea what the engine is doing, I assume it is running the car, but again no real clue. Since the car is still in the garage in the morning, I can safely say that it doesn't appear to have gone Four Wheeling in the night. But it may be living a secret life. My ex was and I didn't know about that one, so we can say that I may be unaware of activities that take place right under my nose.
Finally, we get an appointment and are set up for a loaner car. Drive over there. The kid goes because for some strange reason, HE ABSOLUTELY LOVES THE DEALERSHIP. The same questions are asked. For Pete's sake people, write it down. And for the record, if you work at a restaurant, write it down. Your mind is never as good as you think it is. Pencils were invented for a reason.
They try and give us a Hummer for a loaner. No thank you. We get a snazzy red jag. Very nice, though I feel like I am riding in a hole. I am a big believer in getting that insurance that is like a giant invisible shield all over your car. Where no matter what happens to you, you don't pay. Sweet! I always get it. It drives my kid nuts and he will have a long conversation about the waste of money that feature is. I don't listen. If there is a meteorite heading for New York, it will veer off course and hit me in Washington. I am a serious magnet for weirdos. Not just ones in cars either, they find me on foot as well. It is quite a talent.
So I am keeping my fingers crossed that it is something simple. And it will be done today. Let's all hope.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Let's go Parking!
I suck at Parking.
Pull in parking, parallel parking and my most hated of all, back in at a angle parking.
The pull in parking is the only one I have a chance in hell of achieving victory with. Even then it needs to be the just right spot. Neither of the other automobiles shall be touching or really even near the white line. No giant monster truck shall be by me or behind me, in fact, get off of my floor altogether. I will not park next to any vehicle where major parts are held on by duct tape. Or any bumper sticker that starts with "My (insert dog breed of your choice here) is smarter than your honor student." Especially if said bumper sticker is half way pulled off. Did you get a different breed? Did you find out that honor students are actual people and you have a dog, oh it may be brilliant, but it is still a dog.
The best spots are the ones where no cars are on either side of me. That is like winning the lottery for me. I can open my doors all the way and actually vacate my vehicle normally, as opposed to the open door 4 milliliters, curse your hips, try to squeeze hips the size of watermelons out the opening the size of a lemon, curse your hips, louder, shimmy, shimmy, and finally emerge victories! Only to discover, you have left your purse on the back seat and must now do it all over again. Curse your hips and your lack of brain remembering power.
But at least the car is in a spot.
Parallel parking, not going to happen in my life, EVER. I didn't pass it almost 30 years ago on the driver's test and time has not been a friend in this instance. I have good intentions, I line up my car with the one ahead of the parking spot and then all hell breaks loose. I turn too wide, I turn too sharp, I drive up on the curb, I run into the curb with my car at a lovely 45 degree angle. By now I have traffic backed up for a good mile and I am pretty sure all that long distance honking, is for my benefit. I have had people knock on my window, and actually offer to park my car for me. My kid begs me to just let it go, admit defeat and drive on but I consider it to be a challenge. Daunting, sure. Unachievable, never. And yet, I have never once achieved it. Not even close. I continue to try and I continue to fail. Today, another attempt and another horrifying failure, only I almost got taken out by a fish delivery truck. Who, by the way, parallel parked his ENTIRE TRUCK, just to be a giant show off.
I may be admitting defeat.
On back in angle parking, I admit defeat. If driving forward is a challenge for me, driving backwards and at a angle, is a suicide mission. I can't remember which way you turn the wheel to go left, which way you turn to go right, and with all the screaming from the kid, I simply cannot focus. Therefore, in Seattle, whole neighborhoods have gone undiscovered, due to the horrible angle parking situation. I take a look around, judge the parking and then head home.
It is good to realize one's limitations. Awsome person. Sucky parker. Fine, I'll take it.
Pull in parking, parallel parking and my most hated of all, back in at a angle parking.
The pull in parking is the only one I have a chance in hell of achieving victory with. Even then it needs to be the just right spot. Neither of the other automobiles shall be touching or really even near the white line. No giant monster truck shall be by me or behind me, in fact, get off of my floor altogether. I will not park next to any vehicle where major parts are held on by duct tape. Or any bumper sticker that starts with "My (insert dog breed of your choice here) is smarter than your honor student." Especially if said bumper sticker is half way pulled off. Did you get a different breed? Did you find out that honor students are actual people and you have a dog, oh it may be brilliant, but it is still a dog.
The best spots are the ones where no cars are on either side of me. That is like winning the lottery for me. I can open my doors all the way and actually vacate my vehicle normally, as opposed to the open door 4 milliliters, curse your hips, try to squeeze hips the size of watermelons out the opening the size of a lemon, curse your hips, louder, shimmy, shimmy, and finally emerge victories! Only to discover, you have left your purse on the back seat and must now do it all over again. Curse your hips and your lack of brain remembering power.
But at least the car is in a spot.
Parallel parking, not going to happen in my life, EVER. I didn't pass it almost 30 years ago on the driver's test and time has not been a friend in this instance. I have good intentions, I line up my car with the one ahead of the parking spot and then all hell breaks loose. I turn too wide, I turn too sharp, I drive up on the curb, I run into the curb with my car at a lovely 45 degree angle. By now I have traffic backed up for a good mile and I am pretty sure all that long distance honking, is for my benefit. I have had people knock on my window, and actually offer to park my car for me. My kid begs me to just let it go, admit defeat and drive on but I consider it to be a challenge. Daunting, sure. Unachievable, never. And yet, I have never once achieved it. Not even close. I continue to try and I continue to fail. Today, another attempt and another horrifying failure, only I almost got taken out by a fish delivery truck. Who, by the way, parallel parked his ENTIRE TRUCK, just to be a giant show off.
I may be admitting defeat.
On back in angle parking, I admit defeat. If driving forward is a challenge for me, driving backwards and at a angle, is a suicide mission. I can't remember which way you turn the wheel to go left, which way you turn to go right, and with all the screaming from the kid, I simply cannot focus. Therefore, in Seattle, whole neighborhoods have gone undiscovered, due to the horrible angle parking situation. I take a look around, judge the parking and then head home.
It is good to realize one's limitations. Awsome person. Sucky parker. Fine, I'll take it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
