I have a serious issue with cars.
Well, with selecting a car I am willing to be seen driving in. I actually don’t have any problems with any cars…unless you tell me I must drive it.
At that point, I become overly critical…and bitchy.
I happen to love my car, except…it’s getting to the point where I have to start looking Tim has to find ANOTHER one for me. All the Atlanta driving and the ten thousand trips to Cape Canaveral to try and see a damn space ship led to the miles racking up…and pieces are now breaking and replacements are becoming necessary…basically, it’s getting more expensive to keep it than it would be to have a car payment.
So, Tim’s been showing me cars…and let’s just say it isn’t exactly going so well. Actually, I think Tim is ready to beat his own head against a concrete wall…cause it’d be less painful than our current car-searching experience.
Tim: What about this one?
Me: The back looks like an alien. No.
Tim: Ok…this one?
Me: Does it even HAVE a bumper? It looks like they just stopped at the trunk. And what’s with the hood? It’s like, as long as the entire car…with no bumper…it’s all disproportionate. Who designs these things? I could design a better car.
Tim: The bumper is RIGHT THERE…and the hood looks long because the angle of the picture.
Me: I don’t see it…plus, you know, now that I look at it, the hood is all sloped.
Tim: They don’t “slope” hoods, it’s just the angle of the picture…
Me: I don’t think so…I think it’s the car…AND the windows are too skinny…
Tim: FINE…you don’t like it….how about THIS ONE?
Me: That is like, ALL BUMPER…and it’s ugly…and the headlights make it look like a snake. And I hate snakes. I’m not driving a snake.
Tim: Holy hell, woman…
Me: Leave me alone. I just know what I like.
Tim: Nothing. The answer is nothing. You don’t LIKE anything.
Me: I like my car…and your car.
Tim: Obviously, those don’t exactly count right now…
Me: Well, then you just haven’t shown me a good one yet.
Tim: This one?
Me: The side looks fine…how about the inside?
Me: Nevermind. I’m not driving a Roger Rabbit car.
Tim: !#$!#@ Where, exactly, do you see ROGER RABBIT?
Me: I don’t SEE him, the inside just looks all cartoonish…and goofy.
Tim: YOU. ARE. IMPOSSIBLE.
Me: No, I’m just picky…I know what I like.
Tim: I showed you THE CAR YOU ARE CURRENTLY DRIVING SEVENTEEN TIMES and you said you didn’t like it…you only liked it when we actually went and SAW IT IN PERSON.
Me: That’s because you never showed me MY EXACT CAR. NO ONE HAS MY CAR…except me.
Tim: It was close enough.
Me: No. The Mazda 3 is not close AT ALL to my car. It is nowhere NEAR my car…it doesn’t even LOOK THE SAME as my car.
(I have a Mazda 3, SP 2.3…and we have never, ever seen another one…EVER)
Tim: Nevermind…how about this?
Me: The lights are too bubbly…and the funky back window plus the bubbly lights make it look like one of those Japanese cartoon characters.
Tim: WHAT. THE. HELL. It’s a CAR.
Me: It’s an advertisement to watch cartoons…plus it looks like a cruck…and I HATE CRUCKS.
(a “cruck” is a vehicle that looks like a car-truck…too big to be a car…too small to be a truck…with the worst elements of both).
Me: How about we don’t play this game anymore?
Tim: How about we actually go and LOOK at the cars?
Me: What if I still don’t like them?
Tim: Then you can drive a bicycle.
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