The car search has become in earnest.
Kind of. Sort of.
What I mean by that is, my husband has begun searching earnestly for me a car. I haven’t actually done anything. I don’t even look at the pictures of cars he finds online.
Is it weird that I care that little? I mean, I want a safe, reliable car, but otherwise, I’m not that concerned. We are talking about the girl who currently drives a 13-year-old Toyota, so you probably figured “fancy car” was not high on my wish list. Sadly, I’d rather have money to eat Mexican food three times a week than drive a nice car. Should I admit that in print? I¿have heard that the truth will set you free.
So while I’m busy questioning my priorities, my husband is busy scouring the Internet for good deals and consumer reviews.
I’m glad he’s so interested because I don’t have the patience. He asks me questions like, “Would you prefer a car or an SUV?” and gets responses like, “Yes.”
Well, I do think I need a car or an SUV — does it really matter which one?
If you are Brandon, yes, it does matter.
Whenever he starts talking about the cars he finds, they all sound good to me. And then he asks if I would be interested, and I say sure. Unfortunately, what I¿consider to be easy to get along with, he considers really annoying. I have realized that, in his mind, a 2010 Jeep and 2011 Camry are two totally different things. I wish I felt the same, but my mind drifts more toward what I can get for the lowest payment per month, which I know does not always mean the best deal, blah, blah, blah.
That is why only one of us is an accountant.
I guess it’s kind of like when I tried to ask him about which album he preferred for wedding pictures. Blank stare.
Personally, I think life would be much simpler if he just picked out something we can afford and didn’t give me so many choices. I guess he’s trying to be all 21st century and allow us to, you know, make decisions together. However, I have discovered in my two months of marriage that a husband and wife will never have the same level of interest in anything, at least not at the same time.
I’m sorry to offend you car afficionados out there (especially my friend and column editor Fred), but seriously, all new cars really are the same to me. And by new, I mean produced some time this decade.
Hey, when you drive a vehicle that wasn’t even produced this century, the current decade is definitely a step in the right direction.
The next step is to pick out a few and actually test drive them. I’m hoping something will happen to make one stand out, like ease of unfolding my six-foot frame when I climb out. Maybe it’s like people always say about getting married — sometimes you just know.
Or, sadly, much more likely — they will still all be the same to me, and I will drive away in a decrepit Rav4 with a frustrated husband.
Maybe one of you out there would like to pick a car for me. My needs are pretty simple — I have to fit in it (seriously, not as easy as it sounds when you’re this tall) and it must transport me from point A to point B.
That’s it. I really don’t ask for much.
I guess I get it from my mom. The current Rav4 is not the first to enter our family. Some years before we bought the 1999 model, my mom had another green Rav4. When it was time to buy a new car, she bought an updated version of the exact same thing, only it really wasn’t even all that updated. The Rav does not even have a CD player.
Now maybe you can understand why I’m not that picky. There are preschoolers out there driving Krazy Koops more tricked out than my vehicle.
Yes, I just wrote the phrase “tricked out.” It’s OK, I’m laughing at myself, too.
But alas, the search continues. And continues. And continues.