Wednesday, November 08, 2006

Isn't She Pretty?

This is not MY car, exactly, but it's a picture of one just like MY car. My NEW car. My very special "girlie" car. (According to my daughter this is definately a "chick-car" scaring Hubs out of ever thinking of driving it without me.)

I have a gas-guzzling 2001 Chevy Tahoe that we bought new, but when it was purchased it was Hubs' vehicle. I got it a year or so later when he decided he really did want a nice pickup to complement his work truck. It's a red and silver two door and it serves a purpose. I wouldn't want to be caught in the Iowa winter in the country with two feet of snow and no four-wheel drive. However, with gas prices the way they have been, and the fact that I do like this vehicle and don't want to get rid of it - I'd like to keep the miles off it - I rarely drive it anymore. Unless I need a reliable vehicle to go out of town or need to haul something large.

I have not had a new car since 1989. I have a tendency to bond with my vehicles. My 1989 Honda Civic was a cutie when she was young, but through the years she got passed on to kids to drive. (Through garage doors. Twice. The gas tank cap was sprung. The windshield was cracked. The rust is barely holding it together. Several gallons of Mountain Dew were slopped here and there. I don't drink Mountain Dew. There is some mystery substance staining the back seat. I don't want to know. Honest. Speakers for the stereo are blown. When you drive down the road in the dark with the headlights on and the fan motor kicks in, the lights dim. There is a rattle. Oh, who am I kidding? There are LOTS of rattles.The interior lights no longer come on when you open the doors - probably out of embarrassment for how bad she looks. She tries. Her heater still works great and the air conditioning keeps up fine. She still gets great gas milage, too.) Then a couple of years ago, my son got a new car and I got the poor thing back. She's been a good girl, but she, like me, is getting old. She's a manual 5-speed and although I really love driving a stick, my body doesn't much anymore. I've got a trick knee that is okay most of the time, but occasionally will "stick" when I use the clutch. Not a good situation.

One day while daydreaming, I mentioned to Hubs that someday I'd like a new "beater" - what we call our junk cars to keep the miles off our "good" vehicles. I'd always thought the Beetles were cute, but hadn't driven a new one so wasn't sure if I'd even like them. A few days ago, out of the blue, Hubs showed me some on the internet. He's such a sweetie. He'll totally forget some things, but other things... well, he remembered and it was a surprise.

Saturday, after getting off work at noon, daughter and I drove to another town 40 miles away to test drive a 2001 model. They let us take it back home to show Hubs. The dealer said he'd meet us back at the store in a couple of hours. It drove like a dream. It was so much fun! I fell for it. Hard. As we drove back on the lot, the dealer had a distressed look on his face. 20 minutes after we'd driven off the lot, a man who had been looking and test-driving that car several times that week came in and gave him a cashiers check. He'd sold it right from under us!!!

Hubs exact quote when I called to tell him was "well, I'll be dipped in shit". Yeah. He's a farmer. Can ya tell?

The next day or two were filled with angst. Hubs scoured the Sunday paper for another one but this one was the "luxery" model and they were not to be found. After thinking on it, Hubs just said "Let's go look at a new one". Never thinking I'd find another one that would be what I wanted (I can be a bit cynical at times) he, daughter and I drove to the nearby big city dealership to check it out. There, my friends, was MY new car. It's got all the do-dads and gizmos and extras you could ever want, in an affordable, cute, hell... even FUN... package. Yes, and here is where my "only child syndrome" kicks in... and it's MINE. Although, technically, Hubs' name is on the title... 'cause I will share...

Now she just needs a name.