New Car

September 4, 2013

jeremybaby

Something bloggers spend very little time talking about is what kind of car they drive. Probably because the bloggers I read A) don’t own a car or B) couldn’t care less.

So here’s where I reveal to you that I drive Jeremy’s 12 year old VW GTI and he drives my very unglamorous 10 year old Scion xB. Before that I drove a yellow 1973 VW bug for 7 years through highschool and college – and Jeremy delivered pizzas in a Ford Festiva. Both of our cars have over 130,000 miles on them. The VW seat is being held together with a stick and more recently the xB hatchback handle was being held on by duct tape. That said, we take good care of what we’ve got. The cars are maintained and cleaned often. We figured we would drive these cars into the ground – they both probably have a good 100,000 more miles left in them.

That is until I decided I wanted a new car.

Let me say that this need for a new car is a total vanity trip. This “need” was exacerbated when I was working with a really put together, well-respected business woman in my local community and she was expressing her frustration with a consultant she had previously worked with. She said “… and besides. If he’s so good at what he does why is he driving an old beat up Toyota?” I wanted to say “Because Toyotas last forever! And maybe he’s investing in his real estate empire!” I wanted to defend this guy because well … he’s me too. But at the same time I was grateful we had taken Tara’s new Subaru to the meeting. At that moment I wanted my style and success to be reflected in the car I drive.

But I’m conflicted. I explore this in my post More or Less. It doesn’t help that Jeremy, my go-to guy for what’s best, couldn’t care less about getting from Point A to Point B in style. The breaking point came when I asked Jeremy to help me replace the stick that’s holding my seat together and he seemed hesitant. We’ll blame it on the hormones when I confess that I turned into a puddle of tears over the whole thing. I wasn’t crying because I wanted to a new car – I was crying because my needs (I don’t really need a new car – or a car at all, probably!) versus my desires (I want a new car) were grating against each other – like nails on chalkboard – in my brain.

Two days later we were car shopping. Jeremy and I were a united force against the car salesmen – one of which offered me a water, and then when handing me the bottle of water (on the hottest day of the summer yet) told me that he really wasn’t supposed to be giving it to me – that that water was really for employees only. Needless to say, we didn’t buy a car from that dude. After test driving a BMW, an Infiniti, a Prius, and a Honda CR-V I decided I would go the reasonable route and get a Subaru Outback. I test drove one and it was okay. Then I decided to try out a Mini Cooper that was on the lot – just to rule it out. Instead, I fell in love with the car I’ll be driving for the next 15 years:

MiniS

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