Saturday, March 2, 2013

Al Capone


I bought my first car ever yesterday. I can hear all of you saying, “Congratulations! You’re a car owner! That’s so exciting! You have more freedom! Now you won’t get hit on while you’re riding the bus all the time!” And my roommates are simultaneously saying "Great! Now take me grocery shopping!" Don't worry, I will. And thanks guys. Really. I appreciate your support. Though I can’t say I didn’t enjoy the ample amount of attention men gave me on the bus – I’ll take what I can get. But yes, now I own a car and I have absolutely no money and I feel really…. naive.

I heard all the warnings and I vaguely understood the people who told me all car dealers get off by bargaining and overcharging. Lists and lists of advice were given to me and I took them all and forgot most of it. I wasn’t worried. Who would try to rip me off? Sweet, honest me? So I walked in alone with the mistaken confidence of a Little Leaguer playing with the Yankees. I’m an adult, guys. I can handle this myself. I mean look at me: 21 years old, fresh out of college, I have a full time job with benefits, I got a loan with no trouble even though I have no credit. Next on the list is clearly to buy a car. Put me in coach, I'm ready to play. My confidence comes from the idea that if I’m decisive, I have control. Guess what? Being confident and decisive does not guarantee good decision making.

I guess so far in life I’ve gotten by pretty well by being honest with people and I’ve learned that in relationships, being straightforward invites others to be honest as well. Apparently these rules don’t work quite as expected when you’re buying a car. I can be tough and I can say exactly what I want and not accept any other offers, but only genuinely so; not when I have absolutely no idea what I’m talking about. I’m ashamed to admit, my understanding of cars is limited to how to drive one without dying and to knowing names of things like a “timing belt” but having no clue what they do. So I walked into a deal initially thinking “This is awesome! I’m being so responsible and I’m being an adult and I did research and took care of this all by myself and now I can go grocery shopping WHENEVER I WANT and I don’t have to wake up super early to ride the bus and….” Shortly after, as I drove home from the gas station, realizing I have no more money from my first real paycheck, and realizing I forgot to screw the gas cap back on before I drove home, and as I smelt a burning rubber fume coming from the front of the car, I started to cry.  Tears of distress. Tears I’ve cried before for making out with a boy I didn’t even like. Except this boy is a car and I can’t just wake up the next morning and ignore his phone calls because I owe $4000 to drive him. I’m stuck with him for the foreseeable future and I barely learned his name…

His name is Capone by the way. Like Al Capone. Despite his potential problems and the fear I feel that he’s going to steal all my money, he has a certain amount of class. He’s a 2002 luxury Mitsubishi Diamante, with wood paneling and a smooth, powerful drive. He even looks like he has a mustache. All the reviews I read about cars like him were positive; if there ever was a loyal family car, this is it. But at what cost? And is it true? Or will I end up with a figurative horse head in my bed for taking an offer that probably should’ve been refused? Only time will tell I suppose… So far, I’ve been comforting myself by eating pretzels and cheese (my favorite combination at the moment) and by repeating to myself in the mirror “Liz, this may be a horrible mistake, but it will DEFINITELY not be the worst mistake of your life”. Oddly enough, that is comforting to me even though I have plenty more probably worse experiences than this one to go through…

I’m a firm believer that experience is the best teacher, It’s just hard to accept such a notion when I’m actually experiencing a potentially unpleasant, costly mistake. But as I told a friend about my experience, he simply said “welcome to adulthood”. I guess this is a right of passage of sorts. I can now join the, I’ve-been-hustled-by-a-car-dealer club. And I mean last night I lost my car ownership virginity which is quite a feat. Let’s just hope Capone was the guy to put out for.

I think I need to go biking.