Dodge This

I have a new car. Um, I had a new car. For like three whole days.

See Monday I went to the car dealership to look at cars. Just look. Somehow I got a new car. It happens.

A Dodge Stratus. Could I be a little more lame? Possibly.


I said I had a job. And I did. HAVE a job. They said just fax us a copy of your most recent paystub tomorrow and here - jingle, jingle - just take this new car home. Sweet.

So the next day I fax them a pay stub (dates modified), all good. Then they call and say well we just need to call your employer to verify. Fine, I give them my friend's phone number.

I hang up and call her to tell her to lie for me. Friends do that. Except her line is busy. By the time I finally get thru, she tells me a car dealership just called asking for me, but she told them I no longer worked there.

Shoot, how hard is it to just say I was in the bathroom? When in doubt, lie.

I'm all crap, now I will have to give my car back. She's all well the lesson is not to lie. Funny, I see the lesson as I need to find some better damn friends.


Dealership calls and now I have to admit that no, I do not in fact work there, but I do work part-time at Dullard's. Great, they say, we can re-run your credit app.

Yeah, $734 a month is totally going to get my ass in a new car.

How about a co-signer then? Oh sure, except all my friends either have bad credit and/or crap jobs. The only person that potentially could be a co-signer is my mom and I would not ask her for two reasons. One, I have never taken any money from her since I was 18. I don't know if that's something to be proud of, but I just haven't. Two, she totally would not do it. She thinks I am irresponsible with money. Like her, because when I was younger, she would skim money off the grocery bill to buy shit like dolphin figurines, then we would have to do shit like pull canned foods out of the cabinet and put them in the grocery bag to make it look like we just bought it, or fill the back of the velveeta box with playdough to make it look new. I kid you not, playdough in the velveeta box. She also thinks I am like my punk ass brother, who stole and wrote $2,000 in checks from my parents account when he was 18. You know what they did? Last year they gave him $3,000. Why? Because his ex-wife took all his stuff in the divorce. Nevermind that she divorced that punk because he lied to her about everything and got another woman pregnant, another woman who was married to someone else and twenty years older than him. Then? They gave him a car.

I swear if I had become a crack whore and pawned all their possessions for a single fix, they probably would have bought me a condo by now.

Thank Bob I'm not bitter. Yes, I said Bob, and I meant Bob. I always thank Bob Newhart. There's a reason for that that makes perfect sense, but by the time I got to the end of the explanation, I would have forgotten the beginning, then it would just be a whole scene.


Why did I want to get rid of my car? The gear shift has been sticking, won't go into gear. What do I do, go to a mechanic? Pfffttt, please. I go on the internet and do a search.

Those bastards at AAMCO say, and I quote, DO NOT DRIVE YOUR CAR, HAVE IT TOWED, YOU COULD DIE A FIERY AND PAINFUL DEATH. Or at least that's how I remember it.

Transmission, it has to be, right? I mean it couldn't be anything else.


To illustrate my worst case scenario syndrome, a story. A few years ago, I had this lump on my breast. Yes, fascinating. I found it on a Friday night, and by Saturday I was all over the internet searching for wigs and by Sunday, reconstructive breast surgeons. You know what? It turned out to be a spider bite.

Spiders have a sick sense of humor.

I need to just go to a mechanic.

It's probably best they didn't give me that new car anyhow. After the 72 E-Z payments they had set up for me, the car would have cost close to $30,000.

For a Dodge Stratus? I think not. It was the new car smell that lulled me into a sense of . . . retardedness.

I have to go bed now, I have an interview tomorrow and have to speak coherently on why I would make the world's best administrative assistant for a real estate company that repos homes for highway expansions.

Yes, for serious.

2005-11-04 at 12:33 a.m.