Why does everything have to be so hard?
Last Thursday I bought a new Escape to replace my elderly Expedition, which has nearly 170,000 miles on it. The actual car buying was a piece of cake. The sales personnel were pleasant and helpful and made the whole process a good experience. So far so good.
I always have red cars. When I had to drive a beige rental while my door was being replaced last year I spent twenty minutes a time searching parking lots. I can actually find a red car.
My daughter christened my first red van as The Great Red Avenger. Then, when I bought the Expedition, of course it became “Son Of.” Obviously the new Escape is “Grandson Of.” I may not make it to “Great Grandson Of.” At any rate, buying the car required a good deal of shopping and a good deal of Internet searching, but in the end, I found what I was looking for.
So far so good. One of the reasons I decided to trade the Expedition was that it had refused to start occasionally on an absolutely random basis. So I had $700 worth of work done on it. Problem fixed? Oh, sure. Right. I live in the country with horses. I can’t afford to be stuck somewhere where I can’t get home to care for them and the cats.
So, the new car was to be delivered to my house on Friday afternoon while the Expedition would be driven back to the dealership. I had a bunch of errands to run on Thursday afternoon including a stop at Costco to get a big cake to take to the pot luck supper that evening at my church. Errands done, I got in the car and turned on the ignition. Guess what? It wouldn’t start. All I needed was one more day to get it off my hands. What is wrong with my Karma? I had to get a wrecker at five in the afternoon in a 105 degree heat index to bring me and the car home. Not cheap.
Of course, I missed the potluck supper and now have a gigantic chocolate cake in my refrigerator that I should not even look at, much less eat. How’s that working out for me? Don’t ask.
So I had to explain to the guys who were delivering my new Escape on Friday that they wouldn’t be able to drive the Expedition away. Frankly, they couldn’t have been nicer. The car may not be picked up by their wrecker until Tuesday, but it’s obviously not going anywhere. In the meantime I have my new Escape, which is so complicated it may take me a month of studying the owner’s manual to figure it all out. Today I managed to get the rear window windshield wiper started and had no idea how to cut it off. Nor how to turn on the radio.
And I had to clear out the Expedition, so my bedroom is now as full of mess as the taxes and manuscripts have left my den. I feel like the Collyer brothers. I am putting in for a place on that show about hoarders.
And my friend and I can’t drive Zoe after church today. It’s a heat index of 103. Where is fall when we need it?