One of the loves of my writing life has been writing for Reality Shack. It was my first real gig that catered to a wide audience. I've written a whole lot of different stuff about all kinds of shows. I took a hiatus from it, though, because it can be very time consuming and the audience for what I was writing simply wasn't there anymore.
The site is attempting to revamp itself to open up to more traffic, a wider audience again. One of the ways to do so was to begin reviewing things. I could do that. A review here and there instead of recording every minute detail of the Jersey Shore kids every episode was definitely less time consuming.
Just like that, I was back. Visit my review for A Crush On You ;) . The emoticon is part of the title. You can imagine what I had to say about the movie.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Bugs Trump Shark
The girls decided that a girls' night was needed so we headed to Land Shark on the Nautical Mile. I started my night by finding a spot, parking my little car, and then hearing, Excuse me? I turned around and saw the woman who lived in the house I parked in front of out on her lawn. I said, Yes? She said, You have to move up more, please. I walked to the back of my car and saw I was parked pretty much in front of her driveway. Sorry! I said and moved the car.
I am growing to love Yolanda. Getting used to her takes some time. I cannot park the car without inching up and back about nine or ten times. And sometimes, I have to repark it, as see above.
When I got to Land Shark, I stood outside and waited for AEF. Then I was being attacked by a bug. I texted her to hurry up because I looked like an ass, standing by myself on the sidewalk, karate chopping at the air. Yes, I would still look like an ass with her there, but I looked even worse alone. Also, I was sweating, and nothing says Lady like sweat.
We found an empty space at the bar. Perhaps it had been empty because the guys standing next to us were idiots, throwing beer, water, and ice at each other. Twice, we got wet. Then they decided to jump off the deck into the water. More than once. When T and her bf N arrived, I immediately told them, come closer or you're gonna get wet. Then we spotted an open section farther down so we moved. Instead of being near wet idiots, we were near dancing fools, which is a whole lot better. The DJ was playing mostly 90s pop hip hop dance music, and at one point sampled some Miami Sound Machine without following through with the entire song, which was a total letdown because I was gonna get my Gloria groove on.
When D showed up, it was time to dish because she's got the newest boyfriend, so we wanted stories. She also had a picture. A real picture. N said, it's not often you find people who carry around an actual photograph. Very true! He also told me that he plans to get Kevin Bacon to attend his wedding so he can do the dance from Footloose. I'm wondering if this idea is in T's plans also. Heehee. Then AEF said she's never seen Footloose, which is a complete and utter tragedy. Everyone needs to see Footloose at least once.
The sangria T was drinking was pretty strong. I wasn't drinking because I'd gotten a major heat headache before leaving and was surprised I was standing at that point. I did sniff out the sangria and almost got drunk from the fumes. She explained that there was a whole bunch of different liquors in it plus the red wine. That explained the little bit of a buzz she had going on.
That also explained the slightly louder than necessary encouragement she was offering AEF in hooking up with the bartender. First, she yelled, Go! Go out with him! Get with him! Then, she instructed, Be sexy! At which AEF began dancing and T was like, Not by grinding on me! To him! To him!
I decided at that point that T should make an instructional video on how to get the guy.
1. Have your friend scream behind you something like Get him! so that he hears.
2. Grind against girls.
This video, I'm sure, would be very successful.
The bartender was nice and AEF said she can never tell if they're like that because they're bartenders or because they're into her. That's a fine line, but it's always nice to at least make friends with one, and AEF always makes friends with them. This one, however cute, was iffy at best. At one point, he leaned over and said to her: Hey, BTW, I can get your Coors Light for free because it's a promotion. She looked over at me when he left and we were both like, Did he just say B T W? Like out loud? To speak?
During all this time, I was being eated alive by teeny tiny bugs. At first, I thought it was just me, but then D pulled one out of her head and was like, look at what I found. Bugs always find me and they always attack me most. Gone was the lone bug from the sidewalk replaced by hundreds all over the place. I spent most of the time smacking myself, and at one point, looking down my own shirt, trying to follow one that had headed that way. N suggested using Agent Orange. T pointed out it makes you sterile. I don't have a problem with that part, but Agent Orange seems kind of extreme.
Then things got weird. A woman who looked like a late-40s version of Pink came in with a much younger guy who had matching eyebrows. She carted herself through, stayed a while, and then carted herself out, all with the guy in tow. Then the guy near us was drinking one of those very long girly drinks. All the girls with him were drinking them and they were yellow. His was purple with a pink straw, and was very phallic. The DJ was playing the dirty version of every song, which I quite enjoyed because it's not every day you can hear the lyric, But tonight I'm fucking you, but that couldn't win out over the bugs. With the Gloria Estefan tease, I was out.
I am growing to love Yolanda. Getting used to her takes some time. I cannot park the car without inching up and back about nine or ten times. And sometimes, I have to repark it, as see above.
When I got to Land Shark, I stood outside and waited for AEF. Then I was being attacked by a bug. I texted her to hurry up because I looked like an ass, standing by myself on the sidewalk, karate chopping at the air. Yes, I would still look like an ass with her there, but I looked even worse alone. Also, I was sweating, and nothing says Lady like sweat.
We found an empty space at the bar. Perhaps it had been empty because the guys standing next to us were idiots, throwing beer, water, and ice at each other. Twice, we got wet. Then they decided to jump off the deck into the water. More than once. When T and her bf N arrived, I immediately told them, come closer or you're gonna get wet. Then we spotted an open section farther down so we moved. Instead of being near wet idiots, we were near dancing fools, which is a whole lot better. The DJ was playing mostly 90s pop hip hop dance music, and at one point sampled some Miami Sound Machine without following through with the entire song, which was a total letdown because I was gonna get my Gloria groove on.
When D showed up, it was time to dish because she's got the newest boyfriend, so we wanted stories. She also had a picture. A real picture. N said, it's not often you find people who carry around an actual photograph. Very true! He also told me that he plans to get Kevin Bacon to attend his wedding so he can do the dance from Footloose. I'm wondering if this idea is in T's plans also. Heehee. Then AEF said she's never seen Footloose, which is a complete and utter tragedy. Everyone needs to see Footloose at least once.
The sangria T was drinking was pretty strong. I wasn't drinking because I'd gotten a major heat headache before leaving and was surprised I was standing at that point. I did sniff out the sangria and almost got drunk from the fumes. She explained that there was a whole bunch of different liquors in it plus the red wine. That explained the little bit of a buzz she had going on.
That also explained the slightly louder than necessary encouragement she was offering AEF in hooking up with the bartender. First, she yelled, Go! Go out with him! Get with him! Then, she instructed, Be sexy! At which AEF began dancing and T was like, Not by grinding on me! To him! To him!
I decided at that point that T should make an instructional video on how to get the guy.
1. Have your friend scream behind you something like Get him! so that he hears.
2. Grind against girls.
This video, I'm sure, would be very successful.
The bartender was nice and AEF said she can never tell if they're like that because they're bartenders or because they're into her. That's a fine line, but it's always nice to at least make friends with one, and AEF always makes friends with them. This one, however cute, was iffy at best. At one point, he leaned over and said to her: Hey, BTW, I can get your Coors Light for free because it's a promotion. She looked over at me when he left and we were both like, Did he just say B T W? Like out loud? To speak?
During all this time, I was being eated alive by teeny tiny bugs. At first, I thought it was just me, but then D pulled one out of her head and was like, look at what I found. Bugs always find me and they always attack me most. Gone was the lone bug from the sidewalk replaced by hundreds all over the place. I spent most of the time smacking myself, and at one point, looking down my own shirt, trying to follow one that had headed that way. N suggested using Agent Orange. T pointed out it makes you sterile. I don't have a problem with that part, but Agent Orange seems kind of extreme.
Then things got weird. A woman who looked like a late-40s version of Pink came in with a much younger guy who had matching eyebrows. She carted herself through, stayed a while, and then carted herself out, all with the guy in tow. Then the guy near us was drinking one of those very long girly drinks. All the girls with him were drinking them and they were yellow. His was purple with a pink straw, and was very phallic. The DJ was playing the dirty version of every song, which I quite enjoyed because it's not every day you can hear the lyric, But tonight I'm fucking you, but that couldn't win out over the bugs. With the Gloria Estefan tease, I was out.
Yoga For Good
Donation classes are interesting. A lot of studios offer a class for which participants can give as much as they wish. They take the class and the money goes to charity. This forumla leads to a lot of moral rationalizing of how much can I give to get an almost free class without appearing to be cheap and by helping out people in need? Usually. Sometimes people give a lot. Sometimes people give a little. Sometimes people give nothing, assuming that no one will notice, and usually, no one does. Thankfully, not everyone gives nothing all at one time, otherwise, someone would notice that.
The studio I used to work for needed someone to teach the donation class, so I subbed once again. In exchange, I was able to take a class. That's fair. I don't expect to be paid for a charity class. The participants all gave something. They were lively and happy to be there. They were also sweating profusely.
The studio is on a second floor, over a bagel place. In the mornings especially, the aroma of fresh bagels comes up and through. Ooh, it's yummy. That night, there was no bagel aroma. Instead, there was musty air from the heat. I opened a window and turned on a fan. I wound up opening the other window, too. Heat is good in yoga, but people passing out is no good, so I found a happy medium.
I took a class in exchange a few days later. When I pulled in the lot, I put money in the meter because the time for meters began fifteen minutes before class ended. The meter did not register my quarter. I hate it when that happens. What exactly are you supposed to do? Write a note saying it's not working? Put in another quarter to see if it works with two? Put a bag over it? Seriously, I'd like to know.
After almost an hour and half, I was stretched out and slightly sore. The woman teaching the class used to take my class when I taught at the studio years ago. Since then, she took the teacher training and has been working there. She does a lot of seated stretches that are very easy for her and very difficult to me. It's just a different kind of yoga, which is why I like to go. It makes me do things I'm not very good at doing. She always says, and I agree, that I am so strong. I am. I can do power moves and hold them for quite some time. But ask me to open my legs wide on the floor and stick my arms under my thighs and push my chest to the floor and I look like a very uncomfortable octopus who is suffering from arthritis. Putting me in better spirits was the fact that I didn't get a ticket for the meter. That would have put a huge damper on a free class.
The studio I used to work for needed someone to teach the donation class, so I subbed once again. In exchange, I was able to take a class. That's fair. I don't expect to be paid for a charity class. The participants all gave something. They were lively and happy to be there. They were also sweating profusely.
The studio is on a second floor, over a bagel place. In the mornings especially, the aroma of fresh bagels comes up and through. Ooh, it's yummy. That night, there was no bagel aroma. Instead, there was musty air from the heat. I opened a window and turned on a fan. I wound up opening the other window, too. Heat is good in yoga, but people passing out is no good, so I found a happy medium.
I took a class in exchange a few days later. When I pulled in the lot, I put money in the meter because the time for meters began fifteen minutes before class ended. The meter did not register my quarter. I hate it when that happens. What exactly are you supposed to do? Write a note saying it's not working? Put in another quarter to see if it works with two? Put a bag over it? Seriously, I'd like to know.
After almost an hour and half, I was stretched out and slightly sore. The woman teaching the class used to take my class when I taught at the studio years ago. Since then, she took the teacher training and has been working there. She does a lot of seated stretches that are very easy for her and very difficult to me. It's just a different kind of yoga, which is why I like to go. It makes me do things I'm not very good at doing. She always says, and I agree, that I am so strong. I am. I can do power moves and hold them for quite some time. But ask me to open my legs wide on the floor and stick my arms under my thighs and push my chest to the floor and I look like a very uncomfortable octopus who is suffering from arthritis. Putting me in better spirits was the fact that I didn't get a ticket for the meter. That would have put a huge damper on a free class.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Sinkless
The plumber came to fix the sink. He snaked both sinks and the tub. Everything worked when he left.
A day and a half later, the siding between the second floor and first floor kitchens was brown and there was a large pool of murky water in the basement. This was not good.
The plumber came to check the pipes. Apparently, the original pipes did not take kindly to the power snakes. The leak was in the wall somewhere.
Every time a fixer-upper-person comes to fix something on the house, he tells us, You know, that's all the original such and such. We know, we know. It's an old house so having so much original stuff in it to this day is quite impressive.
Not impressive is not having a kitchen sink. The first thing I did was tape a plastic bag across the faucet and sink in the kitchen so that neither me nor Eddie mindlessly used it. He said that was a good idea because as soon as he came home, he would have used it. Me too. You don't realize how much you use your kitchen sink until you don't have one.
The plumber suggested I look on the bright side. I could haul in water from the bathroom down the hall instead of having to go out to the stream for it. Good point, plumber.
My mom asked if we wanted a bucket to put our dirty dishes in so we could carry them to the bathroom to wash. No, mom, I do not want a bucket. Eddie told me later that I should have said yes to the bucket and then asked her for a rope so we could lower the bucket down to the first floor for her to wash them for us and then we could lug them back up. Funny one, that Eddie is.
I came up with a plan:
1. Use paper plates.
2. Use plastic utensils--this part of the plan has been scratched because we were going to reuse the plastic utensils a few times and then wound up washing them, which defeated the purpose of having less to wash and also negated the idea of "disposable."
3. Reuse glasses. We do this, or at least attempt to, anyway, so we have less to wash.
4. Once a day, pile everything into the drying rack, take it downstairs, wash everything in my parents' kitchen sink, and then bring it back up.
We also cooked down there because we were cooking meat and I didn't want to have to keep going to the bathroom to rinse my hands every time I touched the meat.
The major drawback of not having the sink is when I've awoken with a case of extreme heartburn and I'm still half asleep and I'm roaming around the house, trying to figure out how to get cold water. I don't get heartburn often, but of course it happened at the least convenient time.
Fingers crossed--the experts are coming this week. Hopefully, they don't have to break a whole lot of walls open. The walls? They're original you know.
Friday, June 10, 2011
I Want That Job #1
Every year, when the heat arrives on the East Coast, the news thinks the heat is headlining news. The main story is "The Heat." Every year, it arrives earlier than expected, so the weather people tell us about records from the past and how we almost broke them or we did break them. "We" really didn't do anything. The heat happens and we are subject to it. We can hold a thermometer and say, hey look at how hot it is.
Which brings me to the job I'd like to have. CBS was rattling off how to keep your kids safe when the heat comes on (like don't let them play in the car, which is really a good parenting technique in any kind of weather considering children cannot drive so they should not be alone in a car in case, you know, they somehow start it and ram it into a tree or a garden gnome). They went to their field correspondent, who was standing in a park. With an infrared thermometer.
Her segment was about how hot things were. She held the instrument over a patch of grass and read that it was about 97 degrees. Then she went a few feet forward onto concrete and read that it was 103 degrees. Proving that grassy areas are the places we should seek out when we're outside.
Ohhhhh, that's some real good advice. I'm so used to seeing all those people picnic on concrete. Grassy areas! Good idea.
Anyway, then she was showing how playground equipment can get hot in the sun, especially the metal parts. She gave the temperature of swings, steps up to the swings, and slides. Then she read the temperature for a metal bench.
This girl is not screaming because she's having fun. She's screaming because her ass is on fire. Someone should have really checked the temperature of that swing.
At the end of her report, she was standing by for her next segment. You know those thermomemeters that look like clocks? She had a big round one on the dash of a dark truck's dashboard so we could read it through the windshield as it sat in the sun.
I want this job. I want to walk around with a microphone in one hand and a thermometer in another. I want to point an infrared ray at things and read off digital numbers into a camera. I want to make money saying, "Ooh, wow, that's hot!" not in a Paris Hilton way, but in a business-like, reporter way. Next open call, I'm there.
Which brings me to the job I'd like to have. CBS was rattling off how to keep your kids safe when the heat comes on (like don't let them play in the car, which is really a good parenting technique in any kind of weather considering children cannot drive so they should not be alone in a car in case, you know, they somehow start it and ram it into a tree or a garden gnome). They went to their field correspondent, who was standing in a park. With an infrared thermometer.
Her segment was about how hot things were. She held the instrument over a patch of grass and read that it was about 97 degrees. Then she went a few feet forward onto concrete and read that it was 103 degrees. Proving that grassy areas are the places we should seek out when we're outside.
Ohhhhh, that's some real good advice. I'm so used to seeing all those people picnic on concrete. Grassy areas! Good idea.
Anyway, then she was showing how playground equipment can get hot in the sun, especially the metal parts. She gave the temperature of swings, steps up to the swings, and slides. Then she read the temperature for a metal bench.
This girl is not screaming because she's having fun. She's screaming because her ass is on fire. Someone should have really checked the temperature of that swing.
At the end of her report, she was standing by for her next segment. You know those thermomemeters that look like clocks? She had a big round one on the dash of a dark truck's dashboard so we could read it through the windshield as it sat in the sun.
I want this job. I want to walk around with a microphone in one hand and a thermometer in another. I want to point an infrared ray at things and read off digital numbers into a camera. I want to make money saying, "Ooh, wow, that's hot!" not in a Paris Hilton way, but in a business-like, reporter way. Next open call, I'm there.
Inedible Chips
Texas Hold-em is the game I know only through the celebrity version hosted by David Foley (was that his name?) and that professional poker player on, I think, Bravo. As you can see, my knowledge of the show is sketchy at best, so my knowledge of the game is even less on point. Here's what I know:You get two cards. You hope they are pocket Aces. They usually are not.
Everyone calls, folds, raises, or checks. I like the checking because it's fun to say, Check! Check!
Then whoever stays in sees the flop. That's three cards. Those cards are everyone's cards, so you mix and match the cards for the best hand you have with those three and the two you have. Then everyone calls, folds, raises, or checks again.
If more than one person are still in, then another card comes up. I don't remember the name of this card. Everyone still in calls, folds, raises, or checks.
If more than one person are still in, the river comes up. That's the final communal card. Then everyone can call, fold, or raise, and I don't know if checking is an option, but it should be, again, because it's fun to say.
If everyone in stays in, they turn over their cards and we see who wins.
I think.
Muck means you don't show your cards after you win if you don't have to. You never should if you don't have to. Mucking is good.
Things that are still confusing to me: small blind, big blind, why they call the dealer "the button" (though, that too is fun to say), and why they call a good hand "the nuts."
In the moment, I don't remember what hands are good hands. I don't understand odds at all.
All in means shoving all your stuff into the pot and praying that everyone else will fold. Sometimes you can go all in and not be out of the game even if you lose the hand.
With this in mind, I waited along with Eddie for his poker buddies to swing by for a game. Eddie and his friend were playing a pre-game with S arrived with R since R was going to play. S and I went to Ralph's for ices and then went to visit her parents. While there, Eddie called me to ask where the bottle opener was because everyone just arrived and he was handing out beer, the main reason he wanted to have the game at our place this time--we wanted to get rid of the beer.
We own about four bottle openers that are fully visible in the kitchen. There are a few more lying around. He couldn't find one. He's been living here since October.
S and I walked back to find all the guys there along with AF, Eddie's friend's SMM's girlfriend. The three of us decided to find the girliest thing possible on television while the guys played. One of the guys playing was very upset at this because the basketball game was on. You can't have your chips and eat them too, buddy. Eddie got his laptop and put on the game on the internet so the guy could watch. He was in his little own heaven with the laptop on a folding chair beside him.
As they were getting ready to play, I asked Eddie if he wanted to open a window or two. The house was a sauna with all the people in it. He was like, yeah could you? What the? I was like, or you could turn around and pull them open. He was like, oh yes I could do that too. Someone asked if we could turn on the A/C. We laughed at that. Our A/C was not yet in. Plus, we hate the A/C.
The game went on for what seemed like forever. So did the awards show, which actually wasn't that bad. S wanted to bet on who would win because she had a blanket prediction of "anything Twilight." Which was a good call and I don't think anyone would have bet against it any way.
The pizza arrived quickly from Mama Gina's. I'm not a huge fan of it because it's oily. When we opened it, I had to cut through the pieces with a steak knife. S was like, don't you have a pizza slicer? I was like, If I had one, I'd be using it. She suggested I put it on my registry. I think people are done with my registry, but maybe I will. Then AF asked if we should serve everyone pizza. I was like, Did you hear what Eddie told everyone when it came? He'd said, this house is everyone's house so everyone can get their own pizza. AF was like, so we just walk through with our own pizza? I was like, yes, we do just that. We did. And no one asked where their pizza was because they were focused on the game. S asked R if he wanted a slice because she pretty much knew he wouldn't want it. Nice.
This is how S described Mama Gina's logo: it looks like someone took a photo of their grandmother out of their wallet and blew it up, cut out her head, and put it on the sign.
I added: she has a large oblong head and a bun in the back, and it's a little disturbing.
I don't think either of us is very far from the truth.
It took a good two hours before someone got knocked out. Then they started dropping quickly. By the time S and R left, only three people were left in the game. Then, at almost midnight, it was down to two--Eddie and his friend who had been playing the pre-game before everyone else got there. S commented the next day when I told her of this: Then no one else really had to show up. True! Then again, more people means a bigger pot. When the two of them decided to split the pot, I asked, Did I win? His friend was like, well she's kind of got a point. Heehee.
Everyone left. Eddie asked what we were gonna do with all that pizza. I was like, you mean with these two slices? He was like, there's an entire pie left! I opened the empty boxes to show him and said, when you have a bunch of guys in your house, they're gonna eat the pizza. And btw--we got rid of only one beer. Dammit.
Celebrity Poker Showdown! That's what it was called. My favorite episode was with Penny Marshall who had no idea what she was doing. It was fabulous.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Welcome Yolanda To The Family
On a sunny morning, Eddie and I headed out for a tour of a bunch of car dealerships. We went to Nissan first. Nissan has this great little car called The Juke. It's all kinds of fancy. It reminds me of a VW Bug. It's way too expensive and it has leather seats, which I don't like, so it wasn't on my very detailed list of cars I'd researched in the past 24 hours. I'd actually researched cars up until the minute we left.
The guy at Nissan was less than helpful. He didn't know if they had a Versa. Then he wandered around outside and asked a guy on the lot who was like, It's right there. The car was practically in front of him. He opened the passenger-side door for me to see the car. Because, you know, I would be sitting in the passenger seat while driving, of course. I read the window sticker as he talked to Eddie, clearly not interested in saying anything about the car because he knew we just started looking. As in, I don't care about you and your need for a car. I asked if they had the sedan version because he was showing me a hatchback. He said he didn't. Then he said that leasing the Versa wasn't worth it. That's when I was like, yeah okay just give me your card and we're going. Nissan is currently running a leasing special for the Versa. I'd found it in my research. So this guy either had no clue or was lying.
We went down the road to Honda. We'd been there for a nano-second when Eddie was car shopping. We looked at the car parked outside. It was the Fit, which I'd read up on. Eddie was like, This car is ugly. A saleswoman came outside and asked if we were interested in cars. I was like, yes, I'd like to see the Civic. She brought us inside and pointed at the car and opened the door. It was the driver's side door, so already, this was better than Nissan. I sat in it and didn't like it. There's a weird screen thingie on the dash right in front of the steering wheel that was blocking my view. I asked to see the Fit outside so she got the key. I sat in that and liked it because I could see everything. The back was too huge, though. It's also a hatchback and has way too much room for me. Eddie liked the space and I was like, what are we going to do with it? He winked, I rolled my eyes, and the saleswoman stared off into space as she'd been doing for the entire time. I asked about how it handled in the snow and rain, and she said, Good. She didn't elaborate. The only thing she elaborated on was the monthly cost of a lease for the Fit, which was somewhere in the 300s. Um, no. Not for this car. Maybe mid-200s. There's no way anyone in their right mind would shell out somewhere in the 300s for the Fit. So that ended that.
We tracked our way back towards home and went to Toyota. I wanted to see the Corolla, the Scion, and what I'd remembered that morning as their small car, the Yaris. The Carolla was huge. The Scion was like driving a sedan version of a Hummer. So very wide. Eddie told the sales guy that he wished he'd seen the Scion before leasing his Chevy because it was hooked up and nice. For him. For me, way too big with too much excess space I'd never use. I'm not a fan of waste.
The salesguy said that they had a Yaris across the street so we could take a walk over there. Sure. We followed him as he crossed the middle of Merrick Road with traffic coming from both ways. Seriously. So we played some human Frogger and caught up only to have him speed walk two blocks. Eddie was like, He's taking us somewhere to kill us. I laughed.
Then we got to a building that looked abandoned on the outside. When he opened the door, I was like, Omigod, you're right--he's going to kill us. It was abandonded and broken down on the inside as well. So what did the two of us brainiacs do? We followed him like puppy dogs. Through a door and poof, a garage full of Toyotas, one that had an alarm going off non-stop. It was an icky room. We weaved through cars until he found the Yaris. There were a few in different colors. I sat in it and liked it immediately. I said it was the most comfortable one I'd been in. We walked around the car, looked at the trunk space, and read the sticker. The guy said that they normally don't lease the Yaris but it was still an option. He asked if I wanted to test drive it. Sure.
The ride was smooooooth. He explained that it was an upgrade from the old Echo, which I had driven a few years back during a road trip with S. I loved that car. Now, I was driving along in its offspring. The interior was nice. The color was nice. Everything about it was nice. So we went inside to do some pricing.
My poor Saturn was sitting in the lot, looking on in horror as we did the pricing. The appraiser guy went out and came back with a figure of $2000 for it. I thought about it. In excellent condition for a private sale, I could get up to 4 grand. The car was not in excellent condition, though in a panic, I had used the dust buster to clean it that morning, and I kept panicking whenever the appraiser went near the door because I thought he'd see the broken locks. Anyway, If I were to sell the car privately, I would not be able to lie about the problems it had, so I would sell it for about the same that the dealer wanted to give me. I was okay with that.
As the paperwork was going through and as the car was being detailed and all the wheels and cogs and circuits were doing their voodoo that has to occur during a car sale, I wondered aloud to Eddie, how are we going to fit all the cars in the driveway? He answered, just park your new car where you park now. I asked, but how can I put it there when my Saturn is there? He said, the Saturn is staying here. I said, I can't give up my Saturn. He said, you can keep it as a souvenier but you'll have to put money down for your lease then. I said, I can keep it and put no money down. He said, then you'd have a higher payment. I said, I can let them give me the two grand for it and then take it. He said, no you can't. I said, oh ok.
None of this mattered at the moment the salesman asked, Do you have the title with you? Ha. No, we did not. So we climbed into the Saturn and came home for lunch and to grab the title. I wondered aloud, what would happen if the car died on our way back? Eddie was like, I don't think you'd be getting the two grand they just proposed to you. Heehee. I then offered a string of what ifs--what if it's not really broken? what if I'm doing the wrong thing? what if it can be fixed for very little money? what if the new car isn't as good as the Saturn? what if my Saturn feels abandonded and alone? what if the new owner doesn't treat it well?
Of course, this was all nonsense. I found the title and went through a bunch of other papers. I asked if I needed anything else. Eddie said, that's your title so that's all you need.
We went back to the dealer. They were just about done on their end of things. We gave him the title. He came back a little later and asked about the lien on it. I said there was none. However, the title showed the lien and he said that I would have received a letter saying that the lien was over and done with. I looked at Eddie. He was like, Okay so maybe you did need those other papers. Ugh. The salesman said we could go home in the new car and bring back the paperwork. We just needed to wait for the finance guy.
As we waited, Eddie got a vanilla cone from Mr. Softee. The guy came through the lot quite a few times. That's smart business. We also watched a couple who had to be in their late 70s/early 80s shop for a car. They were all over the lot with their sales guy. They spent a good five minutes discussing how the trunk stays open no matter where you put it so it won't swing up or slam down. Then they both sat in the backseat of a Corolla. Then when they got out, the woman asked the salesguy about the difference between GPS and navigation as the guy stood up, bent over, and fiddled with the seatbelt. This was the greatest live show ever.
Then the salesguy came into the lot with my car. Ooh, it was pretty. Except for this scratch thing on the side. Eddie saw it first and pointed to it. So as the salesguy was showing me all the buttons and gadgets, I was like, Yeah is this a scratch? He looked at it, scratched at it, and then said he was going to bring it across the street to have the guys buff it out without a problem. I was like, yes thanks. There was no way I was taking that car with even a microscopic scratch on it.
We went into see the finance guy to sign the contracts. He asked me what I taught since he'd read I was a teacher at Nassau. I said English. He gave the answer that the salesman gave when he asked the same thing, which is the answer that I usually get--a stupid comment about how English is hard. This is why I usually don't tell people I teach English. I say, I teach at the college. It helps me avoid idiotic coments that I don't really care about. If I cared about your opinion on English and how well you did when you took comp in college, I'd ask. Like, if we were at a party and I met one of them and asked what they did and they said, I sell cars or I finance cars, my immediate answer would not be, oooh numbers are hard or I didn't do well in shop class in high school. You know why that wouldn't be my answer? Because it has absolutely nothing to do with anything. I became an English teacher because I'm good at English. I didn't go into the autoindustry because I suck at cars. Basic common sense, people! Anyway, I'm now done with that tangent.
So the finance guy starts explaining the intricacies of gap insurance. On and on and on about how it's optional but important. And then he gives us how much it would be monthly if we got it. I was growing angrier by the second because anything that affects the monthly cost should be stated when we agree on a monthly cost. Obviously, we came up with a price that I could afford. I was sooooo aggravated. Then when I declined, the guy looked at the paperwork and said, Oh I apologize--you already have it.
I was like, Ah, well look at that. Assssssssss.
He had me sign two contracts, one that gave me a little higher cost if I didn't bring back the paperwork about the lien being over with. Jeez, these people will squeeze you for every penny. We all shook hands and then me and Eddie headed back to the sales floor.
The salesman gave us keys with key chains. Then we walked out to the car again. That's when I noticed my Saturn was already gone from the lot. Sigh. No more Saturn. No more third door. Sniff.
But here was my brand spankin new car. We walked around it, checking for any more scratches and found none. Yeay! We shook hands once more and headed home. And then we came right back with the lien paperwork. And then we left one last time with me as the proud owner of a 2011 Toyota Yaris, color flint mica (meaning charcoal gray).
For all the years I owned the Saturn, I'd never given it a name. I'd named my GPS--Judy--but not the car. It was always "my little Saturn with the third door." As soon as I got my Yaris, she was different. I want everyone to say hi to Yolanda. Send her good vibes. I will always have a place in my heart for my Saturn, but I'm learning to love Yolanda, too.
The guy at Nissan was less than helpful. He didn't know if they had a Versa. Then he wandered around outside and asked a guy on the lot who was like, It's right there. The car was practically in front of him. He opened the passenger-side door for me to see the car. Because, you know, I would be sitting in the passenger seat while driving, of course. I read the window sticker as he talked to Eddie, clearly not interested in saying anything about the car because he knew we just started looking. As in, I don't care about you and your need for a car. I asked if they had the sedan version because he was showing me a hatchback. He said he didn't. Then he said that leasing the Versa wasn't worth it. That's when I was like, yeah okay just give me your card and we're going. Nissan is currently running a leasing special for the Versa. I'd found it in my research. So this guy either had no clue or was lying.
We went down the road to Honda. We'd been there for a nano-second when Eddie was car shopping. We looked at the car parked outside. It was the Fit, which I'd read up on. Eddie was like, This car is ugly. A saleswoman came outside and asked if we were interested in cars. I was like, yes, I'd like to see the Civic. She brought us inside and pointed at the car and opened the door. It was the driver's side door, so already, this was better than Nissan. I sat in it and didn't like it. There's a weird screen thingie on the dash right in front of the steering wheel that was blocking my view. I asked to see the Fit outside so she got the key. I sat in that and liked it because I could see everything. The back was too huge, though. It's also a hatchback and has way too much room for me. Eddie liked the space and I was like, what are we going to do with it? He winked, I rolled my eyes, and the saleswoman stared off into space as she'd been doing for the entire time. I asked about how it handled in the snow and rain, and she said, Good. She didn't elaborate. The only thing she elaborated on was the monthly cost of a lease for the Fit, which was somewhere in the 300s. Um, no. Not for this car. Maybe mid-200s. There's no way anyone in their right mind would shell out somewhere in the 300s for the Fit. So that ended that.
We tracked our way back towards home and went to Toyota. I wanted to see the Corolla, the Scion, and what I'd remembered that morning as their small car, the Yaris. The Carolla was huge. The Scion was like driving a sedan version of a Hummer. So very wide. Eddie told the sales guy that he wished he'd seen the Scion before leasing his Chevy because it was hooked up and nice. For him. For me, way too big with too much excess space I'd never use. I'm not a fan of waste.
The salesguy said that they had a Yaris across the street so we could take a walk over there. Sure. We followed him as he crossed the middle of Merrick Road with traffic coming from both ways. Seriously. So we played some human Frogger and caught up only to have him speed walk two blocks. Eddie was like, He's taking us somewhere to kill us. I laughed.
Then we got to a building that looked abandoned on the outside. When he opened the door, I was like, Omigod, you're right--he's going to kill us. It was abandonded and broken down on the inside as well. So what did the two of us brainiacs do? We followed him like puppy dogs. Through a door and poof, a garage full of Toyotas, one that had an alarm going off non-stop. It was an icky room. We weaved through cars until he found the Yaris. There were a few in different colors. I sat in it and liked it immediately. I said it was the most comfortable one I'd been in. We walked around the car, looked at the trunk space, and read the sticker. The guy said that they normally don't lease the Yaris but it was still an option. He asked if I wanted to test drive it. Sure.
The ride was smooooooth. He explained that it was an upgrade from the old Echo, which I had driven a few years back during a road trip with S. I loved that car. Now, I was driving along in its offspring. The interior was nice. The color was nice. Everything about it was nice. So we went inside to do some pricing.
My poor Saturn was sitting in the lot, looking on in horror as we did the pricing. The appraiser guy went out and came back with a figure of $2000 for it. I thought about it. In excellent condition for a private sale, I could get up to 4 grand. The car was not in excellent condition, though in a panic, I had used the dust buster to clean it that morning, and I kept panicking whenever the appraiser went near the door because I thought he'd see the broken locks. Anyway, If I were to sell the car privately, I would not be able to lie about the problems it had, so I would sell it for about the same that the dealer wanted to give me. I was okay with that.
As the paperwork was going through and as the car was being detailed and all the wheels and cogs and circuits were doing their voodoo that has to occur during a car sale, I wondered aloud to Eddie, how are we going to fit all the cars in the driveway? He answered, just park your new car where you park now. I asked, but how can I put it there when my Saturn is there? He said, the Saturn is staying here. I said, I can't give up my Saturn. He said, you can keep it as a souvenier but you'll have to put money down for your lease then. I said, I can keep it and put no money down. He said, then you'd have a higher payment. I said, I can let them give me the two grand for it and then take it. He said, no you can't. I said, oh ok.
None of this mattered at the moment the salesman asked, Do you have the title with you? Ha. No, we did not. So we climbed into the Saturn and came home for lunch and to grab the title. I wondered aloud, what would happen if the car died on our way back? Eddie was like, I don't think you'd be getting the two grand they just proposed to you. Heehee. I then offered a string of what ifs--what if it's not really broken? what if I'm doing the wrong thing? what if it can be fixed for very little money? what if the new car isn't as good as the Saturn? what if my Saturn feels abandonded and alone? what if the new owner doesn't treat it well?
Of course, this was all nonsense. I found the title and went through a bunch of other papers. I asked if I needed anything else. Eddie said, that's your title so that's all you need.
We went back to the dealer. They were just about done on their end of things. We gave him the title. He came back a little later and asked about the lien on it. I said there was none. However, the title showed the lien and he said that I would have received a letter saying that the lien was over and done with. I looked at Eddie. He was like, Okay so maybe you did need those other papers. Ugh. The salesman said we could go home in the new car and bring back the paperwork. We just needed to wait for the finance guy.
As we waited, Eddie got a vanilla cone from Mr. Softee. The guy came through the lot quite a few times. That's smart business. We also watched a couple who had to be in their late 70s/early 80s shop for a car. They were all over the lot with their sales guy. They spent a good five minutes discussing how the trunk stays open no matter where you put it so it won't swing up or slam down. Then they both sat in the backseat of a Corolla. Then when they got out, the woman asked the salesguy about the difference between GPS and navigation as the guy stood up, bent over, and fiddled with the seatbelt. This was the greatest live show ever.
Then the salesguy came into the lot with my car. Ooh, it was pretty. Except for this scratch thing on the side. Eddie saw it first and pointed to it. So as the salesguy was showing me all the buttons and gadgets, I was like, Yeah is this a scratch? He looked at it, scratched at it, and then said he was going to bring it across the street to have the guys buff it out without a problem. I was like, yes thanks. There was no way I was taking that car with even a microscopic scratch on it.
We went into see the finance guy to sign the contracts. He asked me what I taught since he'd read I was a teacher at Nassau. I said English. He gave the answer that the salesman gave when he asked the same thing, which is the answer that I usually get--a stupid comment about how English is hard. This is why I usually don't tell people I teach English. I say, I teach at the college. It helps me avoid idiotic coments that I don't really care about. If I cared about your opinion on English and how well you did when you took comp in college, I'd ask. Like, if we were at a party and I met one of them and asked what they did and they said, I sell cars or I finance cars, my immediate answer would not be, oooh numbers are hard or I didn't do well in shop class in high school. You know why that wouldn't be my answer? Because it has absolutely nothing to do with anything. I became an English teacher because I'm good at English. I didn't go into the autoindustry because I suck at cars. Basic common sense, people! Anyway, I'm now done with that tangent.
So the finance guy starts explaining the intricacies of gap insurance. On and on and on about how it's optional but important. And then he gives us how much it would be monthly if we got it. I was growing angrier by the second because anything that affects the monthly cost should be stated when we agree on a monthly cost. Obviously, we came up with a price that I could afford. I was sooooo aggravated. Then when I declined, the guy looked at the paperwork and said, Oh I apologize--you already have it.
I was like, Ah, well look at that. Assssssssss.
He had me sign two contracts, one that gave me a little higher cost if I didn't bring back the paperwork about the lien being over with. Jeez, these people will squeeze you for every penny. We all shook hands and then me and Eddie headed back to the sales floor.
The salesman gave us keys with key chains. Then we walked out to the car again. That's when I noticed my Saturn was already gone from the lot. Sigh. No more Saturn. No more third door. Sniff.
But here was my brand spankin new car. We walked around it, checking for any more scratches and found none. Yeay! We shook hands once more and headed home. And then we came right back with the lien paperwork. And then we left one last time with me as the proud owner of a 2011 Toyota Yaris, color flint mica (meaning charcoal gray).
For all the years I owned the Saturn, I'd never given it a name. I'd named my GPS--Judy--but not the car. It was always "my little Saturn with the third door." As soon as I got my Yaris, she was different. I want everyone to say hi to Yolanda. Send her good vibes. I will always have a place in my heart for my Saturn, but I'm learning to love Yolanda, too.
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