I picked up my new car today.
I have two things to say about it.
1. It’s beyond beautiful
2. It would have taken less time to seek political asylum in any foreign country.
My salesperson, Sash, a 25 year old girl who will be 26 in a few months and has plans of giving back by buying the first semester of college books for a worthy graduate of her high school who maintained a 70 to 80 grade average in their senior year. As she said, there’s money available for the people who earn good grades but no help for the average student and who gives a crap about the dummies (the last part was mine).
I gotta say I was impressed with her.
Now how do I know all this about Sash?
Because it took for fuckin’ ever to get that car.
Either it was being washed or dried or dusted for fingerprints. There was one reason after another. I just wanted to get into the car, have her explain all the buttons and stuff and go home.
Just as I was about to cry Sash said the finance guy was ready to see me. This was over 2 hours in.
We went into his office and I told him I’m not getting any extras so please can we skip it .
He wasn’t buying it even though I told him I would sign anything that said that I had heard his speech if he’d just set me free.
He told me he couldn’t do that but he assured me I wouldn’t find it boring.
He was right because I didn’t listen.
The whole time he was talking Sash and I were discussing “Mob Wives”.
By now we were fast friends. We even high fived each other when we both agreed that our favorite mob wife was Drita.
By the time he stopped talking and had me initial my rejection of each of his money making programs I had been there for 3 hours.
I was hungry and tired and just wanted out so when my car came down and Sash began to explain how everything works I had had it. As soon as she connected my phone to blue tooth I hugged her and told her to get out.
Maybe I should have let her tell me a few more things like how to turn the radio off and where the brakes are.