Tuesday, May 02, 2006

Scientific Discovery

Yeah yeah, long time no bloggy, thirty lashes with some hand-spun linen rope, and on to more important things: namely being the discovery of a new kind of human. Well not new, just new to me. I had read about them, but I never suspected that they actually existed. This new type of human? This deserves Caps lock, but I hate Caps lock, so just read it in a Vince Price type doom and gloom sort of voice: The Used Car Salesman.

Yes, it never rains but it pours, lose your job? The exhaust system is certain to fall off of your rediculously expensive to repair import car the very next day...or you know, a week later. So after hooking up the SAAB's monetary IV directly to my bank account and allowing it to suck a few hundred dollars out into a temporary exhaust system repair, Manimal and I decided that although the SAAB is cute, and has my pirate stickers on it, and is an irreplaceable shade of pea green, it's day has passed. It is time for me to get a new "old" car in which to haul my shite around the town.

We found our selves pulled, as if by some magnetic force, into the Used Car Lot. This is what you do if you want to encounter your very own Used Car Salesman: park the rather rusty, distinctly disreputable Green Swedish Piratemobile next to the largest and shinest SUV on the lot and wait 22.4 seconds for the "Used Car Salesman" to scent his prey. I would describe him but the only impression I have is of a very pink oxford cloth shirt and big white teeth that seemed to take up his whole face.

What are us folks looking for today? That's a good question. My fantasy car is a late 70's vintage diesel Benz station wagon, perferably in a ridiculous color. I'm also partial to the old mail jeeps with the steering wheel on the right side (or the wrong side as it were), and the old International "Scout." How does one express that to a pink shirt with lots of shiney teeth? One stands back and allows the Manimal to list things that make the Used Car Salesman's brow furrow furiously as he attempts to figure out just who the hell these people are. What are you driving now? he wonders, thinking this might give him an idea of what sort of freaks he's dealing with. Ah...freaks that would drive a pea green SAAB...with pirate stickers on it. Somehow he works into the conversation that he once saw the Ramones in concert....apparently people who drive pea green SAAB's have been known to like the Ramones (okay...so I do, shut up!). I am inclined to disbelieve him, even though his teeth seemed sincere, since if this man had ever been in the same zip code as the Ramones there would have been a matter-meets-antimatter type anihilation and the crater would still be a tourist attraction to this very day.

When he found out we didn't own a television he said "I love it, I love it, you guys are like...whatchamacallit...throw backs." Used Car Salesmen never say "What are you, fuckin nuts?" They always say "I love it, I love it." I have a sticker on the back window of my two door, hatchback, that says "Swedish Sport Utility Vehical." This is obviously a joke, but the Used Car Salesman? He "loves it."

On another lot with a different Used Car Salesman (I know, two in one day, it should be on one of those nature programs that I don't watch because I'm a throw back with no TV Set) I actually test drove something. This UCS had less teeth, but a rather disturbing habit of laughing at his own jokes, Ha ha, ha ha, heh heh, hmm....and then looking at us with sort of a "get it?" glint in his eye. No, we didn't get it....I guess I just don't understand jokes about Subwoofers. Anyway, the test drive...after asking me if I used to be Goth because of the expression on my face in my driver's license photo (No, I just didn't look enough like a serial killer in the first one, so I asked them to retake it) he encouraged me to "have fun." Having fun apparently means driving fast, since he kept telling me to squeal the tires, and when we pulled out next to a sporty red Corvette he leaned across me and yelled at the driver "You got beat by a KIA! Take that Corvette!"

So here's my "way to have fun" while not spending any money since the unemployment checks haven't started rolling in yet. Go and find yourself a Used Car Salesman, and see just how long they will put up with your shit. Answer...forever. As long as you keep looking at cars and acting like you have a down payment burning a hole in your pocket they will keep trying to figure you out. Plus you get to test drive things, take that Corvette!

Ragnar...yeah, I've become a once a week blogger.


celticjig said...

You definitely need to get out more. I know a guy at the brewery who is a carsalesman during the week and homebrewer in his spare time and works at the brewery on weekends...car lot in Fowlerville, though just based on the name Fowlerville, not sure I could even consider buying a car there...or in Turkeyville....

Imbrium said...

When I bought my car a few years ago, we made it a family outing - me and Bradon and my parents. My dad made one of the Honda salesmen cry. My dad rules.

Beverley said...

Hi Sooooooooooo good to "read" you again. And yes to all about used car sales men. Had one try a "hit" on me recently. NEVER going back there again!!

PS Watch the post have sent your "Postcard" a little late I admit. :)