WHOA!

At long last, over 10 months since my wife died, yrs trly is moving on the car-problem. (“Doncha mean ‘issue?’”)
I still have the two cars we had before my wife died, a 2003 Honda CR-V, and an All-Wheel-Drive 2005 Toyota Sienna minivan. (The CR-V is also All-Wheel-Drive.)
Two cars for only one person seemed rather silly.
It’s not like I felt attached to those cars, although subconsciously I may have.
It was more logistics; getting trade-in values, and finding cars to look at.
Months ago, before my wife died, I looked at the new Honda CR-V. I even test-drove one.
It was okay, but I wasn’t impressed.
Last summer I looked at the new Mazda SUV, the CX-5. It was okay, but again I wasn’t impressed.
My determining factor is always whether it’s dog-friendly.
I need a flat floor with lots of inside ceiling clearance, plus no dog-swallowing gap behind the front seats.
The previous Ford Escape does an exemplary job of being dog-friendly.
The bottom rear seat-cushions fold forward and fill the dog-swallowing gap, and the rear seat-backs fold down leaving a flat floor.
There’s no dog-swallowing gap in my current CR-V, but the rear seats fold forward and block rear-door entry for my dog. The dog has to jump around those seats; and she’s fallen.
Two of those previous Ford Escapes were available pre-owned at a Ford dealership in nearby Canandaigua.
“Doncha mean ‘used?’” I always ask.
At least they weren’t “pre-enjoyed.”
One had already been sold, but the other was interesting.
They offered trade-in values totaling $17,250 for my two cars: $7,250 for my CR-V, and $10,000 for my van.
That’s $250 more than Blue-Book for my CR-V, and $900 less for my van.
The Toyota-dealer in Canandaigua, where I bought the Sienna, is showering me with snail-mail saying they want my car.
So I figured I’d go up there and see what they’d give me to buy it back.
The Toyota-dealer is being remodeled. It was a mess.
I managed to find the showroom, and butted in on a salesman.
An attractive young girl approached saying “can I help you?”
“Sure,” I thought. “Take off all your clothes and we’ll have at it right here in the showroom.”
It was her cleavage.
I say that, but I doubt I could do such a thing.
Or even try.
It’s depressing to think some creepy fat-cat told her she needed to expose more cleavage to sell cars.
UGH! —Poor girl; innocent too.
I’ve been loudly poo-pooed in the past for not wanting to take advantage of people.
I was laid off — some say fired — for not having that attitude.
I explained my situation, hoping they might be interested in buying back my van — for more than the trade-in value I had been offered.
I was directed to a sullen fat-cat in an anteroom.
He looked hung over, like he’d been hitting the Jack Daniel’s the night before.
He grunted something about my van being “older,” and had my pretty young salesgirl fill out a form.
Pretty as she was, it seemed like fat-cat was incensed. Like she was being a bother.
The girl went out and got my van’s VIN and mileage, then directed me to her desk.
“If I’d known I’d have to wait, I’d have brought my magazines,” I said.
I began to fidget. Time was passing quickly.
“If they were as desperate for my van as their letters seem to indicate, I wouldn’t be here twiddling my thumbs,” I thought.
Finally, “I can spare about five more minutes,” I said. “I have to hit the supermarket down the street, and get my dog.”
Pretty-girl went back to bother fat-cat, but he had already appraised my van.
She came back with my key. “He’s offering $7,000,” she said.
“WHOA!” I shouted as I jumped up and headed for the door.
“I need way more than that!” I said.
Pretty-girl was following me out. “Stay with the prospect,” she’d obviously been told.
“The Ford-dealer is offering me 10,” I said to her over my shoulder.
“What a complete waste of time that was,” I said to my friend who daycares my dog.
“The only reason I went there is they keep hitting me with letters crying for my van.
I was about to walk out. If they were as desperate as their letters indicate, I wouldn’t have been waiting.”
My brother-from-northern-Delaware later called me by mistake.
He laughed when I told him I walked out in a huff.
I told him I had been suggested the local Craig’s-List to sell my van. He started detailing all the Craig’s-List scams.
He laughed when I grabbed my wallet.
“Dunna toucha dat wallet!” I shouted.
My wife is gone, a very sad situation. But I’m still the same asshole about money I was before.

• My beloved wife of over 44 years died of cancer April 17th, 2012. At the time she was 68 — I am now 69. I miss her dearly.