Va-ROOM vs wheeeeeeeehhhhh…
As you may remember, a few months ago, I got a new(ish) car. My mom was about to get a new one and when she told me, I asked her what she was going to do with her old one. I was mostly kidding when I suggested she maybe sell hers to me for the amount that I was able to sell mine, especially because the car I was driving at the time was worth about a third of what hers was. But, for some reason, probably because she’s a saint, she thought it was a good idea.
So I’ve been driving Pearl, a 1998 Audi A4 since January. She’s lovely. She has air conditioning, automatic sunroof, leather seats, cruise control, and lots of other extras that make my old car seem rather childish.
But Pearl also has close to 120,000 miles on her, and she’s starting to imply that she might be considering maybe looking into having some not-so-minor problems in the not-too-distant future. When we paid about $200 (actually, I borrowed the money, so mom paid) for her to have a new air intake tube and some kind of temperature sensor thingy replaced a few weeks ago, GTB started broaching the topic of looking at unloading Pearl for something with a warranty.
And so, the search for a new car began. Car shopping is insidious. At first, you’re just browsing. Just having conversations about what you’d not be too embarrassed to be seen driving. But then, you’re online comparing mileage and safety features and sending emails to dealerships in your area (if you consider frickin’ BEAVERTON “my area”) to get quotes.
But that’s not the most interesting and potentially dangerous thing about looking for your next automobile. For me anyway, the pitfalls are most prevalent when GTB and I try to have discussions about what makes sense and what we can afford. Since this will be “my” car, i.e. the one I drive around on a daily basis, I feel emotionally invested in what it is. But since GTB will be assuming whatever debt I go into to pay for it when we get hitched in eleven months, he has some say in it as well. And that’s where it gets sticky.
For instance, when the talking first began, we were weighing the pros and cons of SUVs vs sedans. This led to a “I’d drive a Jeep” confession, which was followed by a quick dismissal by GTB. His reason, “Jeeps haven’t been proven to be safe at the speeds you drive.”
Seriously. He said that.
Another example: After returning from his band’s mini-tour last Sunday, he raved about his friend’s Scion. Not the boxy SUV one, the smaller hatchback thing. “It’s really cute and it gets really good gas mileage. It has a Toyota engine, only it’s smaller.”
Seriously. He said that, too.
Now I know it’s completely possible that GTB’s talking up a car whose speed capability tops out at about 73 mph is probably in the desperate hope that I’ll conceed and thus be forced to drive a car that makes it literally impossible to break any state’s speed limit. But COME ON! My “old” car was a GTI. It was only a four cylinder, but it was super zippy. I’m currently driving a V6. What part of “small Toyota engine” does he think would be even a vague possibility in this bat-out-of-hell driver’s vocabulary? Might as well put me on a fucking SCOOTER.
I won’t even tell you about the argument near miss we had when he brought up the idea of some kind of wagon. Suffice it to say I responded with something not at all overly dramatic along the lines of, “I have the rest of my life to be someone’s mother. I’m not going to drive a car that makes me look like one before I have to. Just the thought makes me want to cry.” And that was the end of that.
Though it’s true that whatever car we buy now will likely be the car we’re driving when we bring home our first, and most likely only, baby, I refuse to buy the minivan now in anticipation of it. I want to be smart about it, yes. But I also have a couple of years, at least, of being the sole occupant in my car most of the time.
So I’m looking at sedans. Four door sedans. With cruise control, air conditioning, and an automatic tranny. I will get the best safety-rated car I can find. And I won’t spend the extra money for a turbo engine or anything like that. But I refuse to drive anything that makes me look even remotely matronly. Because even when I am carting around some little GTB look-alike ankle biter, I still want to be a cool, sexy mama. With a kickin’ stereo.
July 19th, 2006 at 11:55 am
I am living proof that even WHEN you are a mom it is possible to survive without the minivan (shoot me first) or a wagon (shoot me again). And yes, it is also possible to be a lifelong member of the ‘hot moms’ club. 🙂 I will welcome you to the club once the baby actually arrives.
July 19th, 2006 at 3:04 pm
If you’re going to be making payments on a car it should be the one that kind of stops you when you get to the parking lot. It makes you pause and giggle a little at how cool it is and when you get into said car you really hope someone is watching and wishing it was thiers. The little blue-eyed GTB look-alike will fit in a cool sedan….and you’ll need the kikin’ stereo to play the Disney singalongs.