I continue to receive many requests for the true story of my new car. Perhaps it is because the story of my last new car was so dramatic. Or perhaps it is because I built up the suspsense so much with my first blog regarding the first time shopping for the new car. Regardless, I thought it might be time to tell the tale. The biggest reason is that there is some speculation that I might have caved a bit and settled for a car that was not what I wanted. Let me set the record straight right here at the beginning- that is NOT the case. There was no settling on my part. It essentially came down to a battle of the wills.
As I mentioned in my earlier post, due to my husband Mark’s thrifty savings mindset and my shop-a-lot, buy-a-lot mindset, I get a new car every ten years. This is several years sooner than he is ready and about nine years past when I am ready. So when that ten year mark hits, I am super excited. It is a little bit like a five-year old who has been told she is going to Disneyland and she is going to be privately escorted by Cinderella the whole time. I am that excited. Mark, on the other hand, does a lot of sighing and head shaking. He does not verbally express how he feels, but I think it must be somewhat like someone who is about to have a colonoscopy.
This time, I really had a good feeling when we first started looking. Mark had found a car that he thought we should consider and we had both researched it online. I liked it. It had a different look than a lot of the other SUVs and it was a bit smaller than what I had, but it wasn’t tiny. When we went to St. Louis to look and them and drive one, I was impressed. I liked them. I didn’t love them. The interior had a trim piece that was really tacky looking, and the seats were “leatherette” or something like that. Mark insisted that all the new cars were heading away from leather and using manufactured leathers instead. I wasn’t buying it, but I was on my best behavior. Mark loved the car. I wanted to love it, but I wasn’t quite there.
Next, we went to a dealership where they sold cars that we could not afford. That’s where I found a car that I loved! My son, Matthew, had suggested that I test drive one of these cars, since I was in St. Louis anyway. (The town we live in does not have dealerships for either of the makes of cars that we looked at in St. Louis.) They did carry a car that we could afford, and I drove that one first, but it was super teeny. It was like a clown car. The nice salesperson explained that for just $10,000 more I could have one that was similar in size to what I really wanted. I was in St. Louis anyway, so I took it for a spin. It was fabulous in every way. I think Cinderella was in the back seat! The seats were not leatherette or pleather; they were real leather and they smelled divine. The trim was not tacky at all. The mirrors made my wrinkles less prominant and my roots less dark. But Mark was really, really sighing. Apparently $10,000 was not in our negotiating range. I was pretty sure I could find one somewhere that had a few less packages and get it a little closer to our price range.
And we left St. Louis deadlocked. The more Mark wanted the tacky leatherette car, the more I wanted the Cinderella car. I knew we had several months before we were going to make the purchase. Mark would make sure I got the full ten years out of my other car. I thought I had plenty of time to help him understand why I was right. A good opportunity came at a neighborhood party. One of our neighbors happens to be the mechanic who does most of the work on our cars. Perfect! When Mark got up from the bonfire, I cornered our neighbor and explained my situation to him. I was sure that if he heard my side, he would agree with me and convince Mark that I needed the Cinderella car. Well, the surprise was on me. My neighbor said that he would not work on either of those cars- not the tacky leatherette car nor the Cinderella car. He said they were both far too complicated to work on and no one around here would touch either one. Both would have to be serviced in St. Louis. That was not what I wanted to hear. I drive a lot. I need my car everyday. I can’t take it to be service one hundred miles away when I have to keep it ten years.
So it was back to the drawing board for us. I needed to find something that could be serviced locally. One of the cars that I had initially checked off my list came back on my list. A local dealership had two of them available and Mark said I should test drive one to see if I liked it.
This time, I did not take Mark with me to test drive. I took a good friend. Omgoodness!!!! That was so much better! She never sighed. She never moaned. She never told me that I didn’t need any of the gadgets and gizmos. In fact, she told me I needed them all! As I said, there were two models available. I chose a jet black one to drive. It was magical. I drove and my friend played with all the buttons to see what all the car did. It was so fun! The only downside was the salesperson who must have thought is was 1940. He kept asking me if my husband knew I was there and telling me that he could go over pricing when I brought my husband with me. He also told me that he could get the car in a nice blue because I probably wouldn’t want black. (After I pulled up in my car- which was black.)
I was so excited to tell Mark that I had found the perfect car when I got home that night.
Me: I test drove that car today. I loved it! It was perfect. That’s what I want. The inside is red and black- my school colors. It’s meant to be! (I did a little dance, bouncy thing here.)
Mark: I thought the inside was tan.
Me: No, black and red. The white one was tan on the inside. I drove the black one.
Mark: Well, no wonder you liked it. The black one had everything on it! I thought you were going to drive the white one. The white one is what you need. It’s a nice, practical car.
Me: (Making a disgusted face) The white one is hideous. The seats are made out of that gross fabric that looks like paper towels. It has twirly designs that make me nauseous. It has literally no amenities. I don’t think it even has air conditioning or power steering. No one will ever buy that car. It will sit there forever.
Mark: (Sighing) If that is the kind of car you want, we can order one. You can have leather seats, but you don’t need all that other crap. It’s just a waste of money.
Me: No, I want the black one I just drove. It’s perfect. It’s my school colors.
Mark: You’re dreaming.
I was indeed dreaming because he did not buy me the black car. I strongly suggested it. Around my birthday, I had high hopes that I would turn the corner near my house and see it in my driveway. Nope. Christmas came and went. No black car. I started looking online and finding other cars that were similar and sending him pics of those. I decided that I wanted silver, rather than black, but I wanted the same sporty package that the black one had.
Mark, on the other hand, wanted the boring package. I’m sure that’s not what it was called, but that’s what it was. It basically took my beautful car and turned it into one of the countless grocery getters already in the Wal-mart parking lot. He saw no point in paying $4,000 more for big, black wheels and a honeycomb grill.
Another deadlock. A battle of the wills. Do wheels really matter that much to me? Or to him? No. But my ability to voice my opinion and not give in does. Have you ever lost the ability to really know what you want for yourself? Have you ever given so much of yourself to others that you no longer know how to make yourself happy? I have always told my daughter, Emily, that she has to put herself first. She can’t worry about pleasing other people; she must focus on being true to herself. We have had long talks about self care. One day she asked me how I could always tell her to do that when I never did it myself. No one had ever said anything to me that hit me as hard as that. She was right. I pledged right then to change that and I have. So when Mark and I “battled” over the car, it was not really just about the car. It was about me being able to once again hold my own.
As the one year mark quickly approached, I began to send more and more pics of eligible cars to Mark. They were all very close to the price we were looking for. However, he seemed set on ordering one with the boring package. One Tuesday, he sent me an email while I was at work. He had built a car on the website and he wanted me to check and see if it looked “right.” My response was that it was fine, other than it was the boring package, rather than the fabuous package. He replied that he was going to send it to several dealerships in St. Louis to get prices. He added that he was also going to have them check around to see if they could find comparable cars nearby. (Remember that last part.) I still felt confident that the dealerships would find a car somewhere that would have what I wanted for a price similar to what he wanted to order. They would want to sell what was already on the lot and give us a good deal. I wasn’t worried. Then came Thursday morning. We were getting ready for work in the bathroom. I was in the process on applying my old lady creams. It’s a delicate layering process that requires complete attention.
Mark: (In a hurried voice) Um, I’m going to head up to St. Louis on Saturday to go ahead and order that car. It will be a quick trip. There’s really no reason for you to go. I’m sure you have stuff to do here.
Me: (Inhaling all of the oxygen in the room) What? You’re doing what? You’re ordering MY car? You don’t think I should go with you to order MY car? Oh, I’ll be going with you to order MY car. They couldn’t find any cars? They looked and couldn’t find any cars like that anywhere? I fin….
Mark: (Walking out of the bathroom and out of the bedroom) Yeah. There are no cars like that. I knew there wouldn’t be. I’ve looked.
Me: (Now, I wanted to follow him. I was not finished talking. But I was not finished with my creams. If I lost track of what I was doing, I’d have to start all over. So I stayed in the bathroom and fumed. Seriously, smoke poured out of my ears. There is no way they could have looked for cars and not found one. I could find ten every time I looked. This was a bunch of crap. I was not getting the boring package. No way.)
I went to work and immediately told my friends and they shared my outrage. Then I turned on my computer and decided to do a quick search. Just a really quick search. The very first car I pulled up was a silver car with the fabulous package. The price was LESS than the one Mark was going to order. The car was in St. Louis. Could this be real? I chatted online with a salesperson. I asked all the questions I knew Mark would ask. It was for real. I texted Mark. He could not sigh. He could not moan. I had done it. Two hours later we were on our way to buy the car.
At the dealership, I was like a sugar-addict in a candy store. I was practically prancing around. I took pictures of everything. Mark thought everything was ridiculous. He did make me write out the check for the new car. I think he secretly hoped that when I went to write a number that large, it would awaken some inner-miser in me and I would re-think my decision. Maybe I would instead ask to see a nice, pre-owned brown sedan with a large trunk for groceries and my butter churn. Nope. I wrote it out using my pink glitter pen that I found in my purse right next to my “You Are Paw-Some” hand sanitizer. I smiled the whole way home. Mark looked up the price of replacement tires. (Outrageous)
So who won the battle of the wills? I got the car I wanted at the price he wanted. We both won.
But the biggest win of all is that I have the will to battle again. Thanks Emily!
